


Be Naughty (Save Santa the Trip)!

by Bronte, Fairia



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Christmas Drabbles, Christmas sin, F/M, Ho ho ho sinners, ML 25 Days of Christmas, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-09 05:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 70,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12881412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bronte/pseuds/Bronte, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairia/pseuds/Fairia
Summary: The best way to stay warm this winter!(A sinful twist on Tumblr's 25 Days of ML)Contains many pairings (including poly).





	1. Santa Claws (Marichat1)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 1: Santa Claws (by Fairia)  
> Pairing: MariChat
> 
> Please feel free to skip through the pairings that don't interest you! Check the chapter names for pairings.

Muffled cursing outside alerted her that she was not alone. Snorting, Marinette didn’t even look up from her work (though she did cringe a little when she heard her new potted plant tip over). Behind her, she heard her balcony door slide open, and a pair of gloved hands covered her eyes.

“Guess who!”

Smiling, Marinette straightened up from the counter she’d been leaning against. “Um…Santa Claus?”

“Close.” She heard the smile in his voice as his lips hovered by her ear.

“Chat Noir?” She guessed dryly.

“Not quite.” She could almost _feel_ his lips pulling back in a grin.

“Hm?” Marinette’s lips twisted to the side as her eyebrow kicked up.

“I’ll give you a hint.” Chat’s lips brushed the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “Are you on the naughty list, or the nice one?”

“Mmm.” Marinette let her eyes drift closed behind his cupped hands, leaning back against his chest. “I’m on...whichever list gets me the present.”

“Really?” The word came out on an exhale as Chat’s breath ghosted over her neck. His lips brushed her pulse and Marinette automatically tilted her head to give him better access. “Well, I do have something in my sack over there…”

“Sack over there?” Marinette reached behind her, fingers brushing over the leather of his suit, across his thigh and gripping lightly between his legs. “Or the one right here?”

Chat groaned as she caressed him lightly through the suit.

“Marinette,” He whined, “you’re distracting me.”

“Is it alive?” Marinette asked, gripping him harder, thumb smoothing over the line of his erection as he hardened.

“No.” Chat breathed, hips leaning into her touch.

“Is it perishable?” She continued, reaching up with her free hand to grasp his wrist and guide his hand to her breast. She hummed appreciatively when he cupped her through the thin fabric of her tank top, clawed thumb brushing over her nipple as he grasped her breast.

“No.” Chat replied, breath hitching as her hand stroked him up and down. “What about your dinner?”

Pulling away, Marinette turned to face him, eyeing him balefully. “Are you seriously trying to stop me from seducing you?”

“No.” Chat shook his head, and the puffy white pom-pom on the bottom of his jaunty red Santa hat danced with the motion. “But I also don’t want to ruin your first Christmas in your new apartment by _burning it down,_ because you forgot to turn off the stove.”

Marinette twisted, clicking the burner off. “Any more objections?”

Chat blinked. “Nope.”

Reaching down, he grasped her legs and lifted her up, depositing her on the counter next to the stove.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Marinette gasped as he plucked the red Santa hat off of his head and set it atop hers.

Chat stepped forward, nudging her knees apart as his mouth descended on hers. Marinette leaned into the kiss, nipping at his lower lip before darting her tongue out to brush against his.  His hands settled at her waist, claws pricking her skin lightly through the thin fabric.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He asked, before reaching up, pulling aside the stretchy fabric of her sleep shirt and leaning forward to grasp the soft pink nipple in his mouth. Marinette hummed happily as he laved her nipple with his tongue, other hand rising to knead free breast carefully. Threading her fingers into his blond hair, knees pressing against his hips, Marinette moaned as he coaxed her nipple into a hard point.

“You’re...helping me relieve some stress after a long, hard week at the office?” Marinette guessed when he released her nipple with a wet pop and started kissing his way down her stomach.

“I could be.” He replied, tugging the hem of her shirt up. Marinette leaned back, stretching out, pulling the shirt off as he licked and kissed his way around her ribs. “Did you have a long, hard week at the office?”

“Yes, and I brought work home with me.” Marinette pushed the sketchbook aside and grinned down at him. “Distract me.”

“With pleasure.” Chat breathed, kneeling down and pressing a kiss to her cloth-covered crotch. Rubbing a knuckle over her clit, he stood up, pulling her more firmly towards him as he pulled her into a kiss. “Can’t have _Gabriel’s_ newest design team member buring out six months into the job.”

“Three months longer than I would have lasted without you.” Marinette murmured, pulling him back into a kiss as she crossed her ankles behind his back.

“I aim to please.” Chat responded, hands going to her hips to hold her steady as he ground himself against her with a salacious wink.

“Scoundrel.” Marinette gasped, tilting her hips to rub against him more fully.

“You love it.” Chat retorted, mouth moving to her neck, pressing kisses along her throat. His thumbs drifted up over her ribs, claws scratching and tickling the skin there. Marinette squirmed.

“I forgot how ticklish my princess was.” Chat murmured, repositioning his hands as his teeth scraped against her shoulder.

“Mm.” Marinette twisted her fingers in his hair, dragging his head back up until his lips pressed against hers. “Blindfold is in my bedroom.”

“Whatever my princess desires.” Chat murmured against her lips, hands ghosting up to trace her breasts as his hips continued grinding against her.

“You.” Marinette breathed, pressing herself more fully against him as the ache continued to build inside her. “I want you. Under me, behind me, on top of me...I don’t care. I want you _inside me.”_

Chat needed no further encouragement, tugging her forward and lifting her up, swiping his silly red hat as he tucked his hands under her hips to hold her to him. His lips were still on hers and he was only mildly distracted by the way his gait rubbed them against one another as he made his way to her bedroom.

Really, it wasn’t a long walk. Marinette’s apartment was small, and the trip through the kitchen and dining area, past the living room and down the hall into her bedroom took less than thirty seconds. Releasing her, Chat swallowed a groan as her core slid against him, legs tracing down his thighs as her feet hit the floor.

He didn’t bother with the lights, reaching behind him and gripping the door, closing it to cut off the light from the kitchen so the room was shrouded in darkness. Marinette held up a slip of fabric from her nightstand with a saucy smile, eyebrow raised questioningly.

“Do you want to, or shall I?”

Chat gestured to her with a casualness he certainly didn’t feel as he tossed his santa hat onto the bed. “By all means.”

He watched as her eyes disappeared behind the dark cloth. He’d long since stopped worrying at its necessity, or that Marinette would “slip” and peek. Now, he just appreciated its usefulness, and the erotic picture she made with slivers of street light peeking through her blinds and slanting across her skin. Marinette smiled at him, knowing he could see it as she hooked her thumbs into her pajama shorts.

“Allow me.” Chat whispered hoarsely, grasping her wrists to still the motion. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to the pulse point below her ear, gripping her biceps gently as he kissed his way down her throat, guiding her backwards. The back of her knees hit the edge of the bed as he pushed her down onto her already-rumpled blankets.

Marinette hit the bed and he followed her open arms as she reached for him, snugging up between her thighs as he pressed open-mouthed kisses across her shoulders, collarbone and neck. He worshiped her breasts, savoring her gasps and moans as her fingernails scraped his scalp and twisted in his hair. He smiled when he kissed his way across her torso and she wriggled in reflex, thighs flexing and knees gripping his ribs as she giggled. Hooking his fingers into her shorts, mindful of his claws against thin fabric and delicate skin, he tugged them down. Laying one quick kiss above her pubic bone, he followed the shorts down, peppering kisses and licks along her thighs and the inside of her knees, shifting so she could kick the shorts off.

Retracing his trail up the opposite leg, Chat lay back down, carefully sliding his gloved hands under her ass cheeks and lifting her to his mouth. Pressing a kiss directly to her lower lips, Chat’s tongue reached out, licking a stripe up her slit, flicking his tongue against her clit as she bucked against him. Leaning in, he pulled her clitoris more firmly in his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue against it, hands holding her open as she squirmed and gasped.

“Plagg, claws in.” He murmured against her skin. Magic flashed between them, sparking along her skin where they touched. Marinette moaned, shuddering at the electric feel of it tingling against her most intimate places.

“Chat…” She moaned, twisting her fingers in his hair and tugging to encourage him to move up. Instead, he disengaged, quickly shucking off his clothing as she pouted the loss of contact and pretended to shiver exaggeratedly. Chuckling, he kicked off his underwear, kneeling between her legs and leaning down, allowing her to grasp him and guide him into her, groaning as her wet heat enveloped him completely.

“Marinette,” he murmured, bracing himself above her as he thrust into her. It was harder to see her without his enhanced vision, but he could still make out plenty of details as slivers of light shone through her blinds and spilled across them. Dipping his head down, he captured her lips, shivering as her tongue thrust into his mouth in tempo with his hips as he thrust into her. Slamming his eyes shut to better concentrate on the sensations, he moaned again.

She was warmth, and heat, and _amazing._ In all their years as friends, in their relatively short span as lovers, he’d never completely gotten over the way she felt around him. Warm and soft, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades and her legs bracketing his hips as he plunged into her.

“What are you doing?” He whispered as she pushed at him, hand and knee shoving at his hip and shoulder until he was rolling of of her.

“I want you under me.” Marinette replied, straddling his hips as he lay on his back. She reached out, fingers tracing along the planes of his abdomen, trailing down through the hairs beneath his navel and following them down until she grasped him in her hand. Chat couldn’t help the noise he made when she pumped him experimentally. Her pink tongue darted out, dragging over her lips to wet them as she rose up, dragging his sensitive tip down her slit before notching his crown against her entrance and sinking down on him with a satisfied sigh.

On a whim, Chat reached out, snagging the santa hat he’d thrown onto the bed earlier and snugging it atop her head.

“What did-?” Marinette’s movements stilled as her brow furrowed above her blindfold. Her hand reached up to pat the hat with a frown. “Is this…?”

“The Santa hat?” Chat grinned. “Yep. Sure is.”

“Oh.” Marinette giggled, resuming rocking against him as his hands dug into her hips. “So, which list am I on?”

Chat laughed breathlessly, taking in the sight of her naked and blindfolded, riding his cock with a Santa hat perched on her dark hair. His laugh changed to a groan as she clenched around him, bending forward slightly as her slender fingers reached out to tweak his nipples playfully. The movement of her arms bracketed her breasts as she leaned over him, presenting them to him in a narrow slat of light.

“You are,” he said breathlessly as she ground against him, _“the_ Naughty List.”

“Does that mean I don’t get my present?” Marinette pouted as he thrust up into her. Clenching again, she sat up, groping for his hands and setting them against her chest. Chat stifled a groan as he palmed her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers as he listened to her moans.

“No,” Chat breathed as she sat up, reaching down to rub her clit as she rode him. “You _definitely_ get a present. What do you want? Silk? Diamonds? A pony?”

Marinette laughed, the sound bleeding into a throaty moan as he tugged on her nipples, squeezing her breasts roughly as she shuddered and tightened around him. Her hips stuttered, her rhythm faltering as she ground against him. Chat reluctantly abandoned her breasts to grasp her hips, guiding her as her rhythm faltered and she fell forward against him.

“Come for me, Chaton.” She moaned against his lips. Chat pressed his feet into her mattress, bracing so he could drive up into her. She captured his lips as he thrust into her mindlessly, grinding against him gracelessly as she hit her peak. He swallowed her cries as she fractured around him, returning them with a shout as her warm silk wrung him dry inside her.

They lay tangled in the aftermath, twitching muscles cooling in the night air as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Thanks.” Marinette said, and he could feel her cheek muscles shift as she smiled against his shoulder. “I needed that.”

“Anytime.” Chat muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I mean it. Anytime. That was great.”

Marinette laughed quietly, rolling off of him. Chat shivered in the briefly chill air before she tugged a blanket up, settling it around them as she snuggled back against his side.

 

Marinette woke up the next morning, unsurprised to find the space next to her cold and empty. It was unavoidable, she supposed, but that didn’t mean she didn’t miss him. Sliding out of her bed, she kicked around for her pajamas, tugging a robe on over them and heading out to the kitchen.

“Morning Tikki,” Marinette smiled at the little red kwami who appeared by her shoulder. “How did you sleep?”

“I slept well; it’s always nice to visit with Plagg.” Tikki hummed happily. “How did you sleep?”

“Mmm…. _great.”_ Marinette grinned as she stretched and wandered towards her kitchen. “I’ll be happier when we don’t have to hide, you know?”

“I know. Soon, hopefully.” Tikki nodded. “Oh! He left something!”

“Hm?” Marinette turned from the coffee pot, eyes tracking where Tikki was hovering in her small living area. Wandering over, she saw a assortment of Christmas decorations spread out on her coffee table. Eyeing the box that promised a small meter-tall tree inside, Marinette picked up the note amongst the scattered lights and tinsel.

 _Marinette,_  
_I know you said you didn’t want to decorate, because you don’t have much room and will likely spend the day at your parents anyway, but I felt that your first Christmas in your own place deserved at least a little celebration._  
_~Santa Claws_


	2. Ugly Sweater (OT4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 2: Ugly Sweater (by Fairia)  
> Pairing: OT4: Mari/Adrien/Nino/Alya 
> 
> Please feel free to skip through the pairings that don't interest you! Check the chapter names for pairings.

“That is the ugliest thing I have ever seen.” 

“I know.” Adrien preened shamelessly. “Nino has a matching one.”

“Really?” Marinette studied the lights on the sweater as Alya dropped her head into her hands and groaned. “Did… did you add the pom poms yourself?”

“Sure did!” Nino grinned as he stepped inside the door, setting down the bag of take-away he’d stopped to pick up on his way home. 

“That explains why my glue gun was out.” Alya muttered. “Why are you two wearing those things, anyway?”

“We got them for the office party.” Adrien said, setting plates on the table as Marinette moved to get drinks.

“The office party?” Marinette frowned at him from the kitchen as she flipped on the tap to fill water glasses. “That’s not for...two weeks.”

“That’s the fancy one.” Adrien reminded her. “The informal department ones are next week.”

“Alya’s office is having a party, too.” Nino pointed out, setting out containers of pad thai and jasmine rice. 

“You are _not_ wearing that to my office party.” Alya said, jabbing her chopsticks in his direction.

“You’re right; I’m not.” Nino nodded. Alya sighed in relief. Nino’s face split into a grin. _“We_ are.”

“Grk.” Alya’s face twisted into a grimace.

“So…” Marinette set Adrien’s glass in front of him, accepting the plate he passed her. “That’s _your_ department party, _Nino’s_ work party, _Alya’s_ work party, and-” She paled and stared at her boyfriends.

“Yep.” Adrien grinned. _“Your_ party.”

“Mine is for my _department.”_ Marinette whined. “Team members only!”

“Do you really think they’ll tell the boss’ son ‘no’, Mari?” Adrien mused. “And Nino is your _boyfriend!_ Surely you wouldn’t turn _him_ away!”

“Your schedule is full.” Marinette hissed, pointing a finger at him threateningly. 

“No, it’s not.” Adrien said around a mouthful of noodles. “My shoot ends two hours before your party is supposed to start. And the meeting isn’t until four, so…”

“Alright.” Alya set down her fork and looked her boyfriends in the eyes. “What do you want?”

“What do you mean?” Adrien asked.

“What will it take for you to ditch the shirts.” Alya asked flatly.

Nino blinked. Adrien blinked. The two boys exchanged a glance, and there was a silent conversation of half-shrugs and raised eyebrows that went on while Alya and Marinette exchanged their own trepidatious glances.

Finally, Adrien and Nino turned back to Alya and Marinette with matching sly grins and mischievous looks. 

“Well…”

 

“I’m not sure about this.” Alya muttered, eyeing the toy suspiciously. 

Marinette giggled. “I’ll help you put it in.”

“Don’t you have your own problems to worry about?” Alya grumbled.

Marinette shifted uncertainly, and Alya instantly softened. “Oh, Mari, I’m sorry. That was mean of me.”

“No, it’s okay.” Marinette said. “I’m kind of nervous, but-”

“Don’t you mean ‘butt’?” Adrien sniggered from where he lay, lounging nude on their bed.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” Nino added from his position, cross-legged and equally nude, sitting casually next to his boyfriend.

“That sweater will haunt me for an entire month if I don’t.” Alya said, pointing the double-ended vibrating toy at her boyfriend with a frown.

“Okay,” Nino said, standing up and crossing over to her. He took the toy from her, handing it to Marinette. Grasping her biceps, he pulled her in for a quick kiss. “You really _don’t_ have to do this. All joking aside, if you don’t want to, we won’t. That simple. 

_“But-”_ he added as Alya opened her mouth to speak, “I think you’ll enjoy it if you do try it. So while you really don’t have to, I hope that you’ll trust my - _our_ \- opinions on this.”

“No pressure.” Alya muttered crossly, but her nervous shifting betrayed her.

“A _little_ pressure.” Ninio amended. “Because sometimes you need that to break out of your comfort zone. But if you’re honestly uncomfortable say the word and we’ll stop.”

“The same goes for you, too, Mari.” Adrien added. “I’d _like_ to try anal with you, but if you don’t want it, or you’re uncomfortable, then I don’t want to make it worse.”

“No,” Marinette murmured, eyeing her boyfriend’s half-erect penis, “I want to try. We’ve been working up to it, so… yeah.” She huffed out a breath. “Final step.”

“Win-win.” Adrien added with a wink.

“And if Marinette can take a dick up her butt,” Alya said, “then I can handle putting something up someone _else’s.”_

“That’s my girl.” Nino said, kissing her forehead. “Marinette, why don’t you give us a hand getting it in.”

“With pleasure.” Marinette giggled. Stepping closer, she trailed her hand up her girlfriend’s spine, gently grasping her neck and pulling her in for a kiss.

“Damn.” Nino murmured appreciatively.

“They’re beautiful.” Adrien smiled. Marinette broke off the kiss, shooting Adrien a wink as she grasped Alya breast, squeezing it lightly as she leaned over to take her nipple into her mouth. Nino moved behind the two ladies, sweeping Alya’s hair aside to pepper kisses along her neck, sucking lightly as Marinette continued her way down Alya’s body. 

Sucking in a breath as his cock hardened, Adrien sat up, reaching into the drawer for the lube before scooting to the end of the bed. Taking the double-ended vibrator from Marinette, he lubed up the smaller, bulbous end, before handing it back. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Adrien leaned back, bracing on his clean hand as he used his lubricated one to grasp his penis and begin pumping it as he watched Marinette close her lips over Alya’s clit. Alya moaned softly, spreading her legs to allow Marinette better access as Nino stood behind her, rubbing his hardening length against her as his hands reached around to grasp her breasts.

The three of them made an erotic picture, Adrien thought. Nino’s dark hair against Alya’s russet curls. His tan hands grasping Alya’s golden breasts, with their darker, almost caramel-colored nipples. Marinette, pale as porcelain with her raven’s wing hair, buried between Alya’s tan thighs as she licked and sucked, fingers buried in her girlfriend’s pussy.  

And they were _his._ His friends, his loves, his _life._ Adrien shuddered, pumping slower as he felt himself getting close. He wasn’t going to ruin his evening by blowing early. Not when Marinette had finally agreed to _this._

Alya panted as she felt Marinette’s fingers withdraw and the bulbous head of the toy touch her lower lips. 

“A little wider, love.” Marinette murmured. Nino’s knee came up, encouraging Alya to widen her stance so Marinette could work the toy in. Alya shuddered as the toy pressed into her, quiescent for now, it’s almost U-shape leaving softly ridged silicone settled against her clit. She whined when it started vibrating gently.

“Does that feel good?” Nino asked softly.

“Y- yeah.” Alya panted, eyes glazed as she twisted to kiss his lips “It does.”

“Good. _Great.”_ Nino swallowed compulsively as his cock twitched eagerly.

“You ready already?” Adrien looked amused. “I’m feeling inadequate.” 

“There is _nothing_ about you that is inadequate.” Nino replied. “And as much as I love having you, I’ve been waiting for this for a while now.”

“I know the feeling.” Adrien murmured, distracted when Marinette pushed Alya back onto the bed and climbed on top of her. “Hey now! Don’t start without us!”

“You boys should have thought of that before you challenged us.” Marinette smirked, lowering herself onto the dildo with a sigh. “Besides, I’m just… _mmm,_ lubing it up for Nino…”

“Clearly.” Adrien huffed as Nino laughed. Marinette shot him a look as Alya leaned up, bracing on her forearms as Marinette leaned down to kiss her. Next to him, Nino whined.

“This is hot.” Nino mumbled, gripping his cock and pumping it absently. “So much hotter than a vibrator.”

“It really is. And if I thought anal with Mari would work in this position, I would be all up in that.” Adrien replied, crouching to palm a few toys from the box kept under the bed. “But, it’s not. Not right now, anyway. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to steal my girlfriend off of...my grilfriend.”

“Sure, boyfriend,” Nino said dryly, “knock yourself out.”

“Thanks. I knew you would understand.” Adrien said with a wink, pulling Nino in for a kiss before reaching over to grasp Marinette’s hips.

“But I like _this_ cock…” Marinette whined playfully, but allowed Adrien to pull her off and dump her onto the bed.

“I’ll make it up to you.” Adrien said, turning on the small plug and pressing it against her, dipping it into her pussy, working it in and out as she hummed appreciatively. 

“Nice,” she breathed, smiling and reaching up to trial her fingers over him, “but this isn’t what you wanted.”

“We’ll get there.”Adrien promised. “But for you to really like it, I need you relaxed. And worked up.”

“What about you?” Marinette asked, brow furrowing.

Aiden smirked. “Oh, trust me. Once we get going, it’s not going to take long.”

He pulled the plug out of her vagina, swirling the tip of it around her clit briefly before trailing it down her slit to tap it against her anus. Pressing it against her, he worked it in, teasing it in and out as Marinette’s breath hitched.

“Adrien.” She gasped. “Please!”

“As my lady commands.” Adrien murmured, seating the plug fully inside her before laying down. Closing his lips over her clit, he sucked on it, swirling his tongue around as he worked a finger inside her pussy.

Nearby, Nino urged Alya to her knees, leaning down to kiss her breasts as his cock rubbed and pressed against the silicone toy. Grabbing the lube, he pumped some into his hand, using it to coat the dildo.

“You’re shaking.” Alya observed.

“I want this.” Nino replied hoarsely. “Adrien is hot, Marinette is sweet, but you’ve never done this before. I want to know what you’ll be like when you’ve lost control and you’re thrusting into me.”

“Then turn around and let’s get started.” Alya said breathlessly, handing Nino a towel. Nino spread it on the bed, kneeling on it as Alya pressed a lubed finger against him. His breath hitched as she worked on finger in, then two, thrusting them into him. Working them in and out, she scissored them, helping stretch and loosen him before withdrawing. 

It almost hurt to hold still when she pressed the tip of the toy against him. It was still vibrating as it stretched him, the slight burning sensation giving way to more pleasure as the head came to rest inside him. Nino’s head dropped and he moaned as Alya worked the vibrating toy into him, pushing back to encourage her to move a little faster. The vibrations, and the rubbing of the toy cock against his prostate, was almost too much. Nino’s legs shook as the toy filled him, his balls clenching as he swallowed the excess saliva in his mouth and the vibrations settled deep in his pelvis.

Alya was entranced. Nino was a puddle under her, dropping to his forearms to groan and pant against the mattress as she thrust against him. The sight of him as a twitching mess of pleasure beneath her was erotic, empowering, and almost enough to get her off then and there. She bit back a groan as the vibrator inside her shifted, the silicone dildo rubbing against her clit as she thrust into her boyfriend. She’d gotten a taste of how the friction added to the pleasure when Marinette had been on top of her, but now, at an angle where she could bear down on it, it was _exhilarating._ She wasn’t going to last long...but it didn’t sound like Nino would, either.

On the other side of the bed, Adrien was in a similar position. Adrien had gotten Marinette into the butterfly vibrator, and Marinette was on her knees, panting as her hips shifted restlessly. Adrien was positioned behind her easing the anal plug out, pupils blown wide in excitement as he pressed his cock against her.

Marinette tried not to tense, she really did, as she felt the head of Adrien’s dick prodding her entrance. The butterfly vibrating against her clit was an effective distraction, and she had enjoyed the plug, but… his cock was _big._ Bigger than the plug, blunt where the plug was tapered. 

“It’s okay,” Adrien soothed her, rubbing her back. “Breathe.”

Marinette sighed, consciously relaxing as she felt Adrien pressing into her. She panted as he breached her, stopping just after his crown was inside to let her adjust.

“Oh. Okay.” Marinette said, relaxing more as the faint pain burned pleasurably. “Okay. Go.”

Adrien thrust into her slowly, almost trembling with the effort of being gentle, stopping every few thrusts to make sure Marinette was alright. 

“Adrien. _Ah,_ Adrien...go.” Marinette glanced back at him. “I’m alright. I’m...I’m good.”

Adrien nearly whined with relief, gripping her hips as he thrust against her with more fervor, holding back a little less. He wanted to be gentle, he wanted her to _enjoy_ this as much as he did…

And then, she was pushing back against him, following his thrusts, encouraging him deeper with her pants and moans. Adrien’s balls clenched as she trembled beneath him, hips canting futilely as she tried to press against the toy rubbing her clit. Keeping up his thrusts, he reached down, pressing the toy against her more firmly, trying not to groan as he bottomed out inside her. 

Nino had dropped to his forearms, as Alya rutted against him. Everything was tightening, a buzz that shook his legs and filled his pelvis, making his abdomen clench as the rubbing and vibrations continued. All he could do was groan pitifully, listening to Alya’s breathy pants as she neared her peak. His pelvis tightened further, balls almost painfully tight, and then-

-it was like like an explosion. Waves of pleasure washing over her as she leaned on Nino’s hips, grinding hard against the silicone toy as the bulbous tip inside her pressed into the her, shaking and rocking as-

-Marinette nearly screamed, every muscle clenching as Adrien pressed the butterfly against her clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves as she felt the flood of her release wash over her in wet waves, dripping down the inside of her tights as Adrien continued to thrust into her from behind.

Adrien gasped as Marinette hit her peak, almost fumbling the little vibrator as she clenched down on him, the already intense pressure becoming something almost painful as she screamed and shook, pressing against him from all side, rubbing him and milking his own release. He ground against her, short hard thrusts as cum jettisoned out.

Nino dropped when Alya pulled out of him, fumbling for the remote to turn the suddenly too-intense vibrations off. She pulled the toy out with shaking hands, dropping it onto the soiled towel that Nino lay beside, twitching and panting as he fought to regain his equilibrium.

“I love you,” he panted as she stretched out next to him. “That was amazing, and...wow.”

“I’m glad.” Alya replied, laughing breathlessly.

Marinette moaned lowly as Adrien pulled out of her, head hanging between her arms as she shook. Adrien chuckled, loosening the straps of the toy so they slid down her thighs. A few minutes later, the soiled towel and toys were deposited next to the bed, and the four of them were cuddled up together on the mattress.

“So…” Alya asked leadingly. “Can we burn the sweaters yet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this turned out _way_ longer than I intended it to be. Like, way longer. Tomorrow's will not be this long. However, since today's premise was more of Adrien and Nino challenging Alya and Marinette to do something they weren't fully on board with in order to get them to surrender the sweaters, I wanted to establish _very clearly_ that the girls were consenting to the activities. Adrien and Nino aren't jerks: if Alya and Marinette weren't fully on board, they wouldn't have continued, bet or no bet. Consent, and the comfort and pleasure of both parties, trump all.


	3. Peppermint (Kim/Alix/Max)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 3: Peppermint by Fairia  
> Pairing: Alix/Kim/Max
> 
> Kim is convinced Alix has an addiction.
> 
> This one is a 3some. Alix/Kim/Max
> 
> Please feel free to skip through the pairings that don't interest you! Check the chapter names for pairings.

“Another one?” Kim swiped the cup from Alix’s hand with a scowl. “You’ve got a problem, short stuff.”

“No I don’t.” Alix snapped, resisting the urge to jump as Kim held the cup out of her reach. She knew from experience that trying to jump would only amuse the overly-tall oaf. “It’s an iconic Christmas time drink!”

“This is your third one this week.” Kim frowned at her. “Don’t you know too much caffeine can stunt your growth? Oh, wait…”

“Oh, ha ha ha.” Alix glared, settling for holding out a demanding hand while arching an eyebrow imperiously, wiggling her fingers in silent demand. Jumping is for kids: she is a fucking _adult,_ even if standing next to Kim is a painful reminder that she’s still a full foot shorter than he is. 

“You think that’s gonna work, small fry?” Kim laughed. “Just because you can- hey!”

Max lifted the cup from Kim’s hand as he walked past, handing it to Alix as he carried a small box into the apartment.

“Kim, don’t tease.” He scolded idly. Alix took her cup back, shooting Max a smile and waiting for Max to turn his back before sticking her tongue out at Kim. “Did you order something?”

“It came in? Aw, sweet!” Kim grinned.

“What is it?” Alix asked, sipping her peppermint hot chocolate, kicking off her shoes as she leaned against the couch. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Kim shot her a smug smirk. “Hey, Max, when is your break?”

“It’s five p.m; I’m done for the day.” Max replied. “I guess you forgot that it’s your turn to cook dinner?”

“Uhh….” Kim blushed and shrugged. “Thai?”

“And I actually _would_ like to know - that’s why I asked.” Alix pointed out. 

“I have….” Kim peeled the tape off the box, prying it open and grinning at what he found inside. “The answer to your goddamn peppermint addiction!”

Alix and Max both blinked at him. Alix smirked and sipped her drink, making sure to slurp it loudly, just to watch Kim glare. Max rolled his eyes.

“She does not have an addiction to peppermint.” Max rolled his eyes.

“It’s the fifteenth - she’s had _twelve_ of those things!” Kim cried, throwing out an arm expressively. 

“Why are you keeping such close track of my coffee drinking habits?” Alix asked as Max stared at Kim. “And it is literally only during December.”

“Because you scare me, Alix.” Kim said gravely. 

Alix and Max traded looks. 

“Riiiight…” Max said faintly. “So...the box?”

“Oh! Well, I was online a few days ago and...ta-da!” Kim held out a bottle triumphantly.

“Is that from...a sex shop?” Alix asked, leaning over to examine the bottle.

“Peppermint flavored lube.” Kim laughed. “It will apparently not only make you tingle pleasantly, but if used with oral sex, will make your breath minty fresh!”

“And who doesn’t want minty fresh jizz?” Alix deadpanned.

“My thoughts exactly.” Kim agreed with a wink.

“It must be the menthol in it.” Max muttered, squinting at the bottle. “I take it this is why you were asking if I was off work?”

“Well, duh.” Kim grinned. “Wasn’t going to try it out without you.”

“Yep. Yeahh….that tingles.” Alix said, twitching as Max worked his fingers against her pussy. “Wow. That is a strange sensation.”

“Does it feel good?” Max asked, rubbing his lubed fingers along her outer labia, circling her clit before tracing down her slit and dipping his fingers inside.

“Not bad. Different.” Alix hummed, feeling his erection pressing into the small of her back. She held her hand out to Kim. “Gimmie some.”

Kim grinned, drizzling some more into her hand, watching as she rubbed her hands together. “You gonna use that on me yet?”

“Hmm, not yet.” Alix smirked at him from under her lashes as she reached back, grasping Max’s cock in her hand and sliding it up and down his erection. Behind her, Max hummed consideringly as he dipped his head to nibble at her neck.

“What? Aw, no. I bought that.” Kim whined, but he wasn’t offended. Not really. Watching Max and Alix together was always a treat.

“You bought it as a joke.” Alix smirked. “You bought it to tease me, because you think I like peppermint too much.”

“No denying that.” Max chuckled.

“And I never said I didn’t!” Kim protested, pouting as Alix reached up, cupping her breasts, shooting him a smug look as flicked shiny thumbs over her nipples. She shivered dramatically as the menthol and friction brought her nipples to pebbled, rosy peaks.

“Now you’re just being mean.” Kim pouted. Because, _dangit_ , he _loved_ Alix’s tits. Small, pert, milky pale with lovely pink nipples the same beautiful shade as her hair.

“Just a bit.” Alix hummed, eyes closing briefly as she bucked against Max’s talented fingers. She opened her eyes, holding a hand out imperiously. “Come here.”

“I’m not a dog, short stuff.” Kim folded his arms across his chest obstinately. 

“I might have to get you a collar.” Alix teased, leaning forward and grabbing his erect cock with a slick hand. “After all, you already have a leash.”

“I hate you.” Kim muttered, but he stepped forward so Alix could slide her hand up and down him. He bit back a groan as his balls twitched at the different sensations, and the familiar and well-loved pressure of her hand on him.

“No you don’t.” Max rebutted, reaching over Alix’s shoulder to cup his lover’s jaw. Teasingly, Kim bit his thumb when he dragged it over his lips.

“You _love_ me.” Alix goaded, but the fingers trailing up his chest as he stepped closer were gentle.

“You love _us.”_ Max whispered before his lips closed over his boyfriend’s.

Kim groaned as Alix’s fingers danced over his ribs. They slipped down his sides and over his hips to grasp his backside, pulling him closer as she leaned up to press kisses to his chest. Normally, he’d take the opportunity to tease her about her height, but… Alix’s tongue swirled around his nipples, teasing lickes and kisses that left him breathless. 

“Bed?” Kim asked between kisses.

“Bed.” Max said, trailing his lips down his boyfriend’s neck.

“Bed.” Alix agreed, slipping out from between them.

“How do you guys want to do this?” Max asked, trailing behind her.

“That peppermint on your hands made me chilly.” Alix sighed, mock-glaring over her shoulder. “Like, my vagina needs a sweater.”

Kim laughed.

“I know, right?” Alix mock-pouted. “Max, this is your fault: warm me up.”

“So by that logic,” Kim mused, “you should warm me up.”

“You’re right, I should.” Alix hopped onto the bed, tapping her chin thoughtfully as she shot him a coy look. “But seeing as I apparently have a peppermint _addiction,_ I really wanted to taste this lube you got me.”

Kim laughed, sliding his arm over his boyfriend’s shoulders as Max shook his head fondly. “I love a lady who know what she wants.”


	4. Snow (LadyNoir)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 4: Snow by Bronte  
> Pairing: LadyNoir
> 
> Please feel free to skip through the pairings that don't interest you! Check the chapter names for pairings.

  1. Snow



“Is that...snow?”

Ladybug reaches out to catch an errant flake in her hand and stares up at the sky in wonder, her lips falling open in awe. It’s nighttime in Paris and Chat closes the space between them, standing sentinel at her side.

“It is,” he replies, mimicking her action. He glances down at the tiny white flakes on his palm, the contrast stark against the black fabric of his suit, and watches as the heat of his palm melts them into glistening droplets, “I don’t think they were calling for it.”

“Me neither,” she shivers as the wind picks up and Chat instinctively wraps his arm around her shoulders, their years of familiarity not lost of either of them, “It’s freezing out here.”

“I know of a perfect way to keep you warm.”

Ladybug smirks and turns her body around, pressing their chests together. She drapes her arms across his shoulders and he slips his hands down her back, circling around her waist and pulling her closer, “Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”

Chat grins, “A little bit of this, a little bit of that.”

He scoops her up where they’re standing and she wraps her legs around her waist, giggling like school children until he’s backed her up and pressed her against the brick chimney behind them. He kisses her wildly, their lips sliding between breathless laughs and dizzy gasps and she can feel how it all wells up in her chest, giddiness and joy and every feeling in between.

“We’re going to freeze if we detransform here,” he murmurs, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses along the juncture of her neck. She tips her head to the side and arcs against him, scrambling for purchase against the snow slickened fabric of his suit.

“Then we’ll just have to get creative,” she closes her eyes as he grinds his hips against her, effectively anchoring her body to the wall. He repeats the movement and latches onto her earlobe, tugging on her Miraculous with his teeth.

“Just like old times,” he mutters, his breath tickling her neck and he can’t help but want to hold her closer, touching her in a mixture of helpless reverence and delight. Gasping, she keens at the pressure and drags her fingers against all the spots that make him writhe, revelling in the way he sighs against her skin. Ladybug’s breath catches in her throat as he grinds his erection against her clit, and her entire body feels like it’s on fire, his drawn out moans music to her ears. She buries her fingers in his hair and he starts to purr, that deep rumble in his chest sending shockwaves right to her centre.

Chat picks up his rhythm and Ladybug more or less  _ growls _ , biting down on his lower lip and Chat nearly comes undone at the contrast of pleasure and pain.  _ God, _ he loves it when she gets like this, desperate and ruthless and she throws her head back, gasping as Chat continues to suck bruises into her skin. The pressure is beginning to climb to a fever pitch, the coil in his belly drawn taut with lust and the only thing keeping him from tossing himself over the edge is the desire to be the one to get her there first, to watch her gasp his name into the snowy night and close her eyes in ecstasy as she finds her release.

He kneads her ass with his palms and changes the undulation of his hips, grinding them up and around in a circular motion and Ladybug’s eyes shoot open, the friction suddenly overwhelming. She tries to bite down on her lower lip, tries to curb the need to scream his name aloud but he beats her to it, kissing her senseless and all she can hear is the blood rushing in her ears and his needy gasps against her lips. There’s a breathtaking tension building, unfurling inside her and she can’t keep it at bay any longer, the friction, the pressure, the  _ oh, oh, oh! _

“Chat!” she gasps and her toes are curling, her fingers are digging into his suit and she’s closing her eyes, helpless to the sensation, her orgasm overtaking her, her body shaking against him. She vaguely feels him follow suit, his thrusts stuttering and losing their rhythm and she slowly regains power over her body and mind again, basking in the afterglow.

He slowly releases her and she slides down the surface of the chimney, her knees wobbling as they struggle to hold her weight. She smiles as he opens his eyes, bleary and smitten, his hair dishevelled, his lips a swollen mess. He takes her in and Ladybug imagines she looks much the same.

Forever brazen, she captures his lips in a searing kiss and it startles him out of his reverie, leaving him breathless in the wake of the pressure of her fingers against his skin, hot and cold. The snow continues to fall, heedless of the heat between them and it warms him to the very core.

“Up for round two?” he asks, taking her hand and pressing his lips against her knuckles.

She grins, “Your house or mine?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fresh off Masquerade, I have returned to jingle your bells and ride your sleighs because Christmas only cums once a year! Expect nothing but LoveSquare by yours truly, and get ready to read because I'm cuming down your chimney and aaaalll over you. ;)
> 
> ~Bronte


	5. Shopping (Adrinette)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 5: Shopping by Bronte  
> Pairing: Adrinette (featuring dom!Adrien)
> 
> Please feel free to skip through the pairings that don't interest you! Check the chapter names for pairings.

There are three sets of lingerie lying on the padded bench in front of her, all of which have been unfolded and the contents spread for inspection. Marinette chews her lower lip thoughtlessly as she considers the three of them before her, weighing her options. Slipping her mobile from her purse, Marinette opens Snapchat and takes a quick photo of each one and sends them before she can reconsider.

“Let me in!”

Marinette checks her lockscreen and smirks at the time; that only took him, what? Thirty two seconds?

“Yes darling?” she unlatches the door and steps back, narrowly avoiding being barreled over by her fiancé as he bursts into the changeroom, dishevelled and blushing.

“You,” he backs her against the mirror and cages her in with his arms, pinning her with his hips, “have been teasing me all day. Are you trying to kill me?”

Marinette bats her eyes and shrugs innocently, “No? I just wanted some advice mmff—!”

Adrien rips her shirt off over her head and captures her lips with as much ferocity as she’s ever seen him possess, growling against her mouth in a mixture of frustration and possessiveness that has her weak at the knees. She melts into his assault on her senses, and  _ god _ , she loves it when he gets like this.

“For hours you’ve been dragging me around,” he grunts against her skin, one hand unclasping her bra while the other squeezes her ass. His mouth trails down her chest, his tongue flicking out against her nipple and she grasps at the nape of his neck, latching on for dear life. 

“Dressed up in that skirt you know I like,” he swirls his tongue around her breast, his hot breath teasing until he takes the little nub in between his teeth and  _ bites. _

Marinette jumps and barely refrains from squealing as he migrates from one breast to the other, bestowing upon it the same ruthless treatment and she closes her eyes, her chest heaving with every breath. He doesn’t often get like this, and a part of her can’t help but wonder if his mounting schedule has been getting to him again, but he’s already hard between her legs and the friction feels so good and—

_ Ah! _

The fingers that have buried themselves in her hair tighten into a fist and tug, jerking her head backwards and Marinette’s knees start to buckle beneath her, “What do you want from me?”

Everything about him feels different; the way he touches her, orders her, all hard lines and aggressive tones and Marinette is melting, positively melting into his touch. Any other day she’d let him draw this out, revel in the power and take control, but today?

“I want you to fuck me.”

A low sound rumbles from the back of Adrien's throat, a heavy growl that works its way right under Marinette's skin, and it’s the only warning she gets as he closes in and  _ devours _ her, pressing her back forcefully into the mirror once again. The sting of teeth, the way he takes advantage of her gasp so he can claim her mouth further and Marinette want this bad,  _ so bad _ that she can feel it in her bones. She knows she’s been teasing him all day and he certainly isn’t holding back, not with the way he grabs her ass underneath her skirt and squeezes, lifting her up off her feet so he can grind his erection against her centre. 

She pulls away and gasps at the contact, forceful and everything she was hoping for, “Adrien!”

He sets her back down and takes a shaky step backwards, his expression darkening with need, “Turn around.”

Eyes wide, she acquiesces and turns around to press her palms against the mirror, watching him in the reflection as he pushes down on her spine and forces her to bend over further to arch for him. She thrills at the rough handling as he shoves her skirt up her abdomen and hums appreciatively, forcing her panties down past her knees until they hit the change room floor below them. She adjusts her stance and spreads her thighs for him, her head falling forwards in submission when he runs his fingers up and down her slit.

“Keep your eyes open,” he orders, pausing in his ministrations until she’s made eye contact with him again through the mirror. Nodding once, she shivers in anticipation as he undoes the fasteners on his pants and pulls his cock out of his briefs. He grasps his length and pumps it a few times, content to watch her shudder in anticipation with enough force that she visibly shakes.

Without warning, he thrusts his himself inside her and she can’t help but cry out, unable to muffle the sound as he digs the pads of his fingers into her thighs and bends his body forwards, his voice ragged and harsh against her ear, “Is this what you wanted?”

Marinette struggles to breathe, let alone string a sentence together, “God,  _ yes _ .”

“Good,” he responds, pulling out only to snap his hips back in, his tempo hard and fast and Marinette can’t quite believe what’s happening, the friction and the force of it pushing her to a fever pitch, naked and helpless as he fucks her against a mirror in a public changeroom. Adrien's hands are strong and even if Marinette had wanted to put up a fight and draw this out, she'd be helpless to him, helpless to the way he yanks her hips closer and fucks her senseless. It’s a position they rarely explore and the angle is impeccable,  _ oh god _ , he’s got her right where he wants her, hitting that spot over and over and her toes are curling, her calves are cramping and the hand ghosting down her abdomen is sliding lower between her legs, stroking and teasing and somehow gliding just past the spot where she needs him to be and—

He’s starting to fall apart in the reflection of the mirror and she is too, his lips parted in a silent cry that almost brings her to the brink and he picks up the pace, relentless and Marinette inhales sharply, close but not close enough. He’s igniting sparks inside of her, deliberately tormenting her, and just when she thinks she can't survive another moment—

_ “Ah!” _

She comes with abandon, her hips are stuttering and her muscles are clenching, milking his cock and she’s pretty sure he’s coming too but she can’t tell and fuck,  _ fuck  _ it feels good to just let him take her like this. The world fades, washed out and irrelevant as she struggles to stay on her feet, bracing her body against the mirror like it’s the only thing holding her up.

Moments later, minutes even, he pulls out of her and she hears the sound of his zipper, the telltale signs of the buckle of his belt. She takes a wobbly breath, still presenting for him and he slides the pad of his index finger down her slit, sensitive and slick with come.

“I’m taking these,” he says, his voice nonchalant as he snatches her lace panties from the floor, “You’ll have to go on without them if you want to keep shopping.”

Marinette’s clit begins to throb anew, “I…”

“And as for the lingerie,” Adrien pauses, making eye contact with her through the mirror, “I like the red one.”

Straightening the lapels of his shirt, he unlatches the lock and slips out, closing the door behind him, “If you need me, I’ll be in the car.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hohoho!
> 
> If you're here from Masquerade, then you'll know that I have a bit of a thing for control dynamics. Mmm mmm mmm.
> 
> Leave a comment if you enjoyed! And, to all of our readers who haven't quite drummed up the courage to leave us a message, we'd love for you to tell us what pairing you'd like us to write! Give us your opinion! Cum on...do it for me ;)
> 
> ~Bronte


	6. Fuzzy (Adrinette)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 6: Fuzzy by Bronte  
> Pairing: Adrinette 
> 
> Please feel free to skip through the pairings that don't interest you! Check the chapter names for pairings.

      6. Fuzzy

"How many of those have you had?" Adrien asks, taking in the flush on Marinette’s cheeks with amusement.

"Um..." Marinette squints as she considers her glass, "A few? I think the bartender is making them a little stronger than necessary."

"Is he now?" Adrien raises a brow as she turns to wave at the young man behind the bar. He flushes pink and offers a shy wave in return before going back to filling glasses, "I'll bet he is. What’s this called?"

"A...a fuzzy navel," Marinette giggles, offering him the cocktail glass, "It’s silly right? But it tastes like peaches so...wanna taste?"

Adrien takes the proffered glass from her hand and makes sure to keep his eyes on the bartender, drawing the straw between his lips. Marinette was right of course; it was a little on the strong side.

"It  _ is _ good," he murmurs, holding it out for her to take. Smiling, he lets his fingers slide over hers as he pulls her into his embrace, capturing her lips in a quick kiss.

Drunk Marinette is always responsive and she leans into the kiss, gasping when he takes her lower lip between his teeth and humming happily when he slips his tongue into her mouth. She tastes of vodka and peaches and faintly of the  _ Agreste _ design department’s holiday dinner they'd just finished sitting through; Adrien opens his eyes and smirks against her lips, gratified to see the bartender glowering at them in frustration. 

"But I think it tastes better on you," Adrien remarks as he releases her, stepping back and using the force of their movements to spin her around. Marinette giggles and wobbles back towards him, bracing her hands against his chest to catch her balance.

“We should…” Marinette blinks slowly, her half lidded gaze wavering as she struggles to focus, “We should dance.”

“Hmmm,” Adrien wraps his arms around her middle and considers his options for a moment, his curiosity getting the best of him. Sure, they could stay and dance the evening away until she sobers up a bit or…

He bends down and whispers something in her ear, the soft spoken innocence in his voice belied by the mischievous sparkle in his eyes. He gently nips the shell of her ear and Marinette’s face flushes pink, snickering breathlessly at the implication of his words and suddenly she’s learning back and snatching his hand off her waist, tugging him along and making a beeline for the door.

“I know just the place!”

~

“Here?” An elevator ride and two hallways later, Adrien looks from side to side at the conference room she’d lead them to and turns back around in confusion, “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Marinette replies, the final shreds of her common sense falling away. She kicks the door closed behind them and flicks the lock with her fingers, feeling the tingle of the vodka spread through her veins, “It’ll be fun!”

“This is my  _ father’s _ conference room.”

“Your point?”

Marinette strips the cardigan from her shoulders and tosses it onto the nearest chair, her smile growing with every passing moment. She wriggles out of her dress next, the thin lace straps slipping off her shoulders one by one until the whole ensemble hits the floor with a quiet thump.

Adrien chews his lip for a moment, considering. If they were to get caught…

“Oh, fuck it.” 

Marinette giggles as he reaches across, catching her around the waist and dragging her in his arms. She grabs fistfuls of his dress shirt and kisses him, the alcohol and the effervescence and the sudden heat drowning out any fears or anxieties of being caught  _ in flagrante delicto _ in her boss’s (and future father-in-law’s) conference room. She guides him back towards the chair at the head of the table and Adrien knows  _ exactly _ what she's up to and stills for a moment, gauging the grim humour of the situation, before tossing caution to the wind and finally kissing her back with fervor.

Marinette lets out a low moan as his hand snakes back to clasp the nape of her neck, the other cupping her ass and hauling her up onto the asymmetrically designed conference table. Her hands roam his body, unclasping each of his buttons one by one until she’s freed him completely, pushing the cashmere blend from his shoulders and onto the floor. She skims her fingers along his skin, through his dishevelled blond hair, over the muscles of his chest and abdomen, then down, down to the firm curve of his ass and the bulge at the apex of his thighs. He gasps into her mouth as she repeats the motion, over and over until he’s straining against the zipper of his wool trousers, unable to stifle the moan of frustration when her fingers drift away.

Adrien spreads her legs further apart and grinds their hips together, sucking a line of kisses along her jaw. She’s gasping now, all hot, breathy moans against his ear and Adrien can’t hold out for much longer, not with the way she’s grazing her nails against his scalp, drawing the purr he so desperately tries to keep underwraps from between his lips. Growling, he undoes the button of his trousers and Marinette is nothing but eager to help, pushing the fabric down past his hips until his cock springs free of his briefs.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Adrien mutters as Marinette gasps into his mouth, his knuckles rubbing circles against her clit through her panties. He pulls away and Marinette gives a little sob of complaint at the interruption, bracing herself as Adrien raises her hips just enough to help her shimmy out of the thong she’d bought specifically for her outfit. He bends down to slide the strip of lace from her ankles and comes up slowly, sucking and scraping his teeth along the length of her inner thighs before pausing just below her lower lips, his eyes trained on her.

“W-why’d you stop?” Marinette gasps and tries to use her legs to beckon him closer, to get him to just do  _ something _ already. She bucks her hips, the little sparks of pleasure radiating from her core increasing with the very thought of Adrien going down on her where M. Agreste would no doubt be sitting tomorrow morning. She takes her lower lip in between her teeth and closes her eyes, throwing her head back with the intensity of her fantasy.

Adrien watches it play out on her face and just knows what’s going through her mind and...fuck. He's  _ never  _ going to be able to sit here beside his father with a straight face ever again.

Straightening from his crouch, Adrien cups her ass with his palms and pulls her close, pressing his cock flush against her stomach. He moans low into her mouth as she scrapes her fingernails down his spine, the pleasure/pain of the sting combined with the pressure against his cock sending him soaring. 

“Please,” she warbles, grasping onto his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his thighs. He doesn't waste another moment and takes himself into his hand, pushing himself inside her and  _ fuck _ , Marinette is so, so hot and he’s so close already, the intensity of their situation coming to a fever pitch inside his mind. They could be caught having in his _ father’s conference room _ for Christ’s sake, and the risk of it all makes his cock twitch dangerously inside her. He worms an arm between them and flicks her clit with the pad of his thumb, bracing her against him with the other and thrusts and thrusts and he’s never even imagined this in his wildest fantasies and—

Marinette keens as he ups the ante, the pressure and the patterns he’s tracing against her clit drawing a throaty moan that seems to reverberate through her entire body and she wants him, she wants him so bad, wants him around and everywhere but right now, right now she can’t do anything but buck her hips and meet his thrusts helplessly, burying her face in his neck, worrying the tender flesh at the juncture of his neck. It feels so  _ so _ good and he’s starting to lose his rhythm, starting to make those tiny, needy noises that always tell her that he’s close, so close that she can taste him, feel him twitching inside her and she throws her head back with abandon and clenches, content to hear him howl as he’s swept over the edge, coming hard in hot pulses inside her. His hips falter, his movements stutter and it takes a long moment before he comes back to himself, bleary and exhausted and thoroughly dishevelled.

“Did...you?”

Marinette licks her lips and leans back, bracing herself on her elbows, “Not yet.”

Adrien takes a deep breath and tries to gather his fuzzy thoughts, glancing down at his fingers. He’s only got a few brain cells working but this? This he can do.

Her heart is racing as he slips two fingers inside her and begins to return the favour, his thumb retracing its former movements against her throbbing clit. Marinette lets her elbows collapse beneath her and spreads out onto the conference table, groaning as he curls his fingers and adds a third, pumping them in and out. It won’t be long now, she thinks, revelling in the pleasant buzz in her fingers and toes as her climax approaches, swelling in her core until the pull is all encompassing, knocking her senseless.

Marinette opens her eyes and stares up at the ceiling, grinning from ear to ear. She hears Adrien doing something at the end of the table but she can’t be arsed to care, idling kicking her feet as the hang off the side of the table’s edge. She starts to giggle again, the heady murmur of alcohol still buzzing in her mind and in her limbs, elated and giddy.

“Proud of yourself?”

“Hm?” she raises her head off the table, her smile growing wider as Adrien zips up his trousers, his facial expression akin to a puppy that knows he’s been naughty.

“I can’t believe you made me do this,” he mutters, gathering up the rest of their clothing. 

Marinette sits up and basks in the afterglow, “You know you loved it.”

Adrien can only grumble in agreement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yes, the infamous office party hook-up. Come on now, haven't you ever fantasized about getting naughty at your place of work? I sure have ;)
> 
> Fairia needs help deciding what pairing to write for the Marshmallow prompt. Save her from writer's block and help her by leaving a pairing in the comments below!
> 
> See you on the 10th of December! (Fairia is on for 7, 8 & 9)
> 
> ~Bronte


	7. Gift (Adrinette pt1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Gift  
> Santa Baby pt1  
> Adrien returns from a work-related trip to find the perfect gift waiting for him.

Adrien wasn’t into shibari, but when he walked into his apartment to find his wife wrapped in nothing but red ribbon, he considered it the highlight of his week. No, _month._ The large red bow holding the ribbon together over her stomach was just extra awesome on the sexy cake, as far as he was concerned.

“Merry Christmas to _me.”_ He mumbled, dropping his suitcase in the doorway and stepping further into his candle lit bedroom.

“Merry Christmas to you.” Marinette agreed, giggling as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “What’s the rush?”

“Two weeks.” Adrien said, tossing his shirt in the direction of the laundry basket as he fumbled with his belt buckle. “Two weeks away from you, and I come home to find you like _that,_ and you ask me what the rush is?”

“Slow down there, tiger.” Marinette giggled, crossing the room and grabbing his hands, stilling them as she leaned up to kiss his lips. “We’ve got all night.”

“I’m afraid I’ll wake up and find I’m still gone.” Adrien mumbled against her lips, threading his fingers through her hair to drag her closer. “I’m going to wake up alone in a strange bed, and this will all have been a dream.”

“Not a dream.” Marinette breathed, shoving his pants and underwear down, and Adrien shivered when her dainty fingers wrapped around aching flesh. “As real as it gets.”

She had a red bow in her hair, was Adrien’s last coherent thought before his wife’s lips wrapped around him. She made an erotic picture, kneeling in front of him, twined in red ribbons with a bow in her dark hair and her pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock. Drawing him into her mouth, her hand gripped the base of his cock as she sucked, head bobbing and hand moving in time. Her tongue swirled around him, and Adrien shuddered.

“Ah, Mari...keep this up, and it won’t take long.” Adrien felt compelled to remind her.

Marinette chuckled around him, looking up at him with a wink before she redoubled her efforts with a strong suck. Adrien closed his eyes, burying his fingers in her hair and letting himself be swept away in the tide of sensations. Her other hand came up, grasping his sack and massaging the testes, rolling them between her fingers as her warm mouth worked him. Adrien groaned as her tongue pressed him up against her soft palette, curling around the head in a way she _knew_ would drive him crazy.

Thrusting was automatic, instinctual; he couldn’t _not_ thrust. Even if he was able to keep himself (mostly) in check, holding still as he got closer was harder. Marinette let go of his balls, her hand raising and resting on his thigh to help hold him in place. Her nails scraped lightly over his skin, palms a gentle pressure as her thumb rubbed soothing circles over his leg.

He came with a gasp and a groan, spine curving and legs shaking as cum jettisoned into Marinette’s mouth. When it was over, all he could do was stand there as Marinette kissed her way up his body, nails scraping lightly over him as the smooth satin she had bound herself in brushed against him. She reached his mouth and her fingers dove into his hair, pulling him into a deep kiss.

“You’re amazing.” He murmured when they finally parted. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She whispered, placing an affectionate peck at the corner of his lips. “Now...are you ready to unwrap your present?”

 

Later that night as the candles were burning low and red ribbon was strewn across the floor, Adrien and Marinette lay curled together in bed. Marinette brushed Adrien’s bangs aside, listening to his even breathing and grateful for his presence. She’d wrapped herself up and joked about being his present. She’d teased him, loved him, and loved being “unwrapped” by him. And Adrien had never questioned the placement of the bow - had probably thought nothing of it past the untying of it.

Marinette giggled quietly to herself, appreciating her inside joke. She’d meant to say something tonight, but they’d been too wrapped up in each other - figuratively and literally, and there’d never been a “right” moment. Adrien had fallen asleep quickly after, sleeping the way only somebody exhausted and travel-weary could, so that hadn’t worked, either.

 _There’s plenty of time._ Marinette thought with an affectionate smile, hand ghosting over her still-flat abdomen as she reached down to pull the comforter up. Maybe she’d just tell him later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, true story: I'm sick as hell. Everything hurts, my stomach hates food and my throat is trying to suffocate me. Also, I'm currently running solo parenting ops while my husband is out of town. Tomorrow's gig is Marichat, but... well, I'll do my best.


	8. Jingle Bells (MariChat2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 8: Jingle Bells   
> MariChat1: Santa Claws
> 
> Marinette is going to kill this boy...and he's going to love every second of it.

There were bells in her hair. Two tiny golden bells hung from each pigtail, dancing merrily at the end of cheery red ribbons whenever she moved. Chat had noticed them pretty much right away when he opened her balcony door and watched as she hunched over her sketchbook. Of course, he’d seen them earlier, as Adrien, when he’d met up with his friends for lunch. And because he had, he knew without even seeing it that there was a strip of black lace around her throat adorned with another golden bell.

Alya had flicked the bell and giggled about her looking like Chat Noir, and the gesture had shot straight through him, leaving his mouth dry and his knees weak. He hadn’t even heard Marinette’s reply. All he could do was watch the little golden bells she wore dance as she shook her head to make them ring.

“What is this?” He breathed as he crept up behind her, slipping one claw under the strip of lace still around her neck. “A little kitten with a dainty collar.”

“Hardly a kitten, Chat.” Marinette replied, setting down her pencil and stretching. She looked over her shoulder at him as the red sleeves of her oversized sweater slipped down her arms, and the bells in her hair danced with the movement. Chat, however, was focused on the look in her eyes, coy and mischievous, as she glanced at him through fanned lashes.

“A Queen, then.” Chat replied as she turned to face him.

“I thought I was your Princess?” She teased with smirk.

“Maybe once, when you were a girl.” Chat replied. “But I don’t think it qualifies now.”

“Goodness, someone has a silver tongue tonight.” Marinette teased, spinning around in the chair, humming appreciatively when Chat leaned forward and slanted his lips across hers.

“I like your bells.” He grinned when they parted. “Especially _this one.”_

“You like my bells?” Marinette’s look of wide-eyed innocence was ruined by the smirk tugging at her lips. “But Chat, you haven’t seen all of them. How do you know which is your favorite?”

If he hadn’t been low-key turned on before (and honestly, _all day_ since seeing her), those words sent all of the blood he had straight south as he considered their implications.

“I don’t know…” He pretended to ponder the words as she giggled and slipped a bare foot up his calf. “It’s going to be tough to top that necklace. I guess I’ll have to check them out, just to be sure.”

Marinette giggled. “There’s nine.”

“Nine?” Chat grinned. “Somebody thinks they’re clever.”

“I am very clever.” Marinette retorted. 

“Well then, I’ve already found five, so that’s four left to discover.” Chat said, pressing two kisses to each side of her neck before placing his lips at the hollow of her throat, next to where the small golden bell hung off of black lace.

“Are there any on your fingers?” He wondered aloud, pressing kisses to her fingertips, nipping the sensitive pads lightly, trailing kisses across her palm. Pushing up her sleeve a bit, he made a show of inspecting her wrist before pressing his lips to her pulse. “None here either.”

“Maybe check the other wrist,” Marinette teased, and the slightly breathless tone of her voice pleased him. He drew her in for another kiss, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth, nipping lightly to hear her gasp then sucking to soothe the sting. Her hands reached up to, fingers sliding into his hair as she pulled him closer. Reaching up, he grasped her hand, tugging it to his mouth and looking her in the eye as he nipped the pads of her fingers before inspecting her wrist.

“My lady is trying to tease me.” He remarked, finding no bell attached to that wrist either.

“I’m not the only one teasing.” Marinette replied. “Maybe you should check somewhat...below my neck.”

Chat didn’t need any further encouragement, sliding his gloved hands under her sweater, trailing his fingers over the skin of her stomach and ribs, wishing he could feel her warmth with his bare fingers. Marinette twitched as he found a ticklish spot, then hummed as his thumbs brushed the bottom of her bra as he pulled her sweater off.

Her bra was just as red as her sweater, with an eye-catching little bell jingling merrily between her breasts. 

“Six.” He murmured, peppering kisses over the swell of her chest, nosing the little golden bell to hear it chime. “Three left.”

He worked his way down, trailing his lips and fingers across her ribs and stomach, enjoying her breathless pants and twitches as he hit sensitive or ticklish spots. Grinning, he swirled his tongue around the bell nestled in her navel, tinkling as it danced on the end of her piercing. 

“Seven.” He grinned at her, popping the button on her black leggings. “What do I get if I find them all?”

“Find them all and find out.” Marinette winked.

Grinning, Chat tugged the zipper down, exposing the golden bell underneath the bow on the front of her underwear. 

“Eight.” He purred, tugging the pants down and pressing his lips to her cloth-covered clit. Peeling the pants down, he shoved them off of her hips. Opening his mouth, he tongued her clit as well as he could through the fabric, gratified when she dug her fingers into his hair and bucked against him.

“One more.” She breathed. 

Chat’s hand came up, cupping her assm sliding up to run his fingers over the elastic band of her panties, clearly thinking that the final bell was back there. 

“Nope.” Marinette giggled breathlessly, even as her stance widened to allow more room for her partner’s talented tongue to probe her through her underwear. “Try lower.”

Chat’s hands smoothed down her legs, and Marinette shivered as cool leather ran across her skin. He pushed the leggings down as far as he could, mouth never leaving her aching sex as the fabric of her pants pooled around her ankles. 

Chat reached out, hands on her hips as he urged her backwards to the edge of her chair. Lifting her foot, he slid the fabric of the pants over it, setting it down and reaching for the other. He’d almost tugged it off when he heard the faint chiming.

“Nine.” He grinned, leaning back and lifting her foot to reveal the tiny golden bell on a chain around her ankle. “I win.”

“And what do you win?” Marinette asked, amused.

Chat blinked at her slowly, pressing his ips to the inside of her ankle, just above the bell. “I don’t know; my Queen has not told her lowly Tom what his prize is.”

“Hmm.” Marinette rolled her ankle, letting it rest over his shoulder as he continued kissing his way up her calf. “I think Kitty gets...position of his choice.”

“Position of choice?” Chat smirked. “In that case...on all fours, my Queen.”

“On all fours? My, my,” Marinette teased, “are you trying to bring a queen low, Chaton?”

“Never.” Chat swore as she lifted her leg off of his shoulder and slid down in front of him, kneeling so they were face-to-face, “I just want to see if I can hear those bells jingle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, fun fact: a female cat is called a Queen, hence Marinette's upgrade. 
> 
> More MariChat fun tomorrow! What position do you want to see?
> 
> Also, thanks for all the well-wishes! This probably wasn't as explicit as it could have been, but I hope it still satisfies.


	9. Marshmallows (MariChat3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 9: Marshmallows  
> MariChat1: chapter 1 (Santa Claws)  
> MariChat2: chapter 8 (Jingle Bells)

Watching her, Chat was sure he’d died. He was dead, and in some kind of sexy, domestic-y, porn-inspired heaven. Or he was having a _really_ good dream. Had he watched a porn like this once? Or maybe he had some kind of deep-seated issue about the lack of affection in his youth that produced this kind of fantasy?

There was really no other explanation, really, for why he was watching Marinette prance around her kitchen wearing nothing but a frilly apron and her underwear.

Her ass was a thing of beauty, Chat thought idly, as he watched her cheeks flex beneath the abbreviated shorts she called underwear. The bra didn’t match the underwear (totally different fabrics, for one), but the cute little pink and white stripes on in _did_ look pretty good with the cotton-candy pink apron she was sporting. 

“What are you doing again?” He found himself asking, shifting a bit as Marinette bent over at the waist to fish something out of a bottom cabinet. _Gods_ she was flexible - he could just slip up behind her and-

“Making marshmallows.” She replied, lifting a pan with a triumphant _aha!_ “I want them for Alya’s party next weekend.”

“And you can’t buy them at the store because…?”

Marinette shot him a disgusted look over her shoulder. “Have you ever had homemade marshmallows?”

Chat shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

“Don’t worry,” Marinette said sagely, adding gelatin to the pot of boiling syrup before lifting it from the stovetop. “if you had, you would have known. They’re way better than the stuff in the store. Now, come over here and hold the mixer for me.”

Obediently, Chat did as he was bid, squeezing behind her in her small galley-style kitchen. He didn’t want to rub himself against her and risk jostling her while she was holding the hot pot, but he was unable to help himself completely. Luckily, Marinette was well-aware of his fixation with her rear, and only rolled her eyes as he squeezed her butt cheek.

Chat started the mixer, watching the whisk whirl as she slowly poured the hot syrup down the side of the bowl and into the egg-and-sugar concoction he was mixing. At her command, he kicked it up to high while she set her pot into the sink before turning to her pan to coat it with oil and powdered sugar. 

“So,” He asked casually, since he was apparently stuck holding the mixer for the next ten minutes or so, “how did you lose your pants again?”

“I told you, I dropped pizza in my lap.” Marinette replied, briskly washing her dishes while she eyed the clock. “They were white, so I wanted to get some stain remover onto them and get them washed before it set.”

“And the shirt?”

“Let’s just say this is my second batch of marshmallows.” Marinette rolled her eyes. “At least I slapped the handle and dumped it on myself _before_ I’d turned the heat on.”

“That is lucky.” Chat eyed her. “Wouldn’t the bra be sticky too?”

“It kind of is.” Marinette made a face, tucking the last of the dishes into the drainer to dry. 

“So...why is it still on?” Chat leered.

“Because I wanted to get this done before I was attacked.” Marinette said dryly. “I mean, if you wandered in here and saw me  in nothing but panties and an apron, what would you have done?”

“Wondered what I had done to get so lucky.” Chat said solemnly. “Then I would have done my level best to _get_ lucky.”

Marinette chuckled as she hung up her dish towel.

“Speaking of,” Chat continued, hoping that being the mixer-holder would prevent him from getting hit, “if that bra is sticky, why don’t you just take it off.”

Marinette’s look said she knew exactly what he was up to...and her smile said she would go along with it. Reaching behind her, she unsnapped the bra, a coy smile flitting about her lips as she let the straps slid down her arms before shrugging them off and pulling the bra out from behind her apron. Chat pouted.

“Not even a nip-slip?” He whined. “You’re so cruel to your mixer.”

“Oh, you only have to stand there another two minutes.” Marinette grinned, turning away and reaching up into the cupboard for a bottle of vanilla. Chat smiled as she stretched and the apron pulled taut against her front.

 _Side boob._ He thought happily, watching his lover add in the vanilla before reaching above his hand to turn off the mixer. As the whisk slowed, Chat carefully lifted it up and away from the bowl. He’d learned his lesson - the hard way - about still-spinning beaters and the messes they made the first time he helped Marinette bake.

Carefully, Marinette poured the marshmallow mixture over the pan, and Chat stepped back to rinse the whisk for her as she worked. A moment later the two of them were staring down at the pan.

“So...now what?” Chat asked.

“It has to set.” Marinette replied.

“And that will take…?” 

“About four hours.” Marinette shrugged. 

“I guess we’ve got some time to kill.” Chat mused.

“A little, yeah.” Marinette agreed with studied casualness. “Why? Got something you want to do? Netflix and chill?”

“Netflix?” Chat snorted. “Please; you’re standing here in an apron and panties - where did the bra even _go?_ I’m going to say skip the Netflix and go straight to the ‘chill.’”

“Magic.” Marinette said, raising her hands and waggling her fingers, laughing as Chat scooped her up and carried her out of the kitchen.

 

Adrien was propped back against her headboard, a pillow wedged behind his back and both hands on her (amazing, wonderful, fantastic) ass. He tilted his head back, resting it against the headboard so he could watch Marinette as he helped her ride his cock. In all honestly he wasn’t sure what turned him on more: the flush on her cheeks, her breasts bouncing in front of his face, or the way her mouth fell into a tremulous “o” the closer she got to her peak. 

Her hands were braced above him, curling over the top of the headboard as her hips snapped forward, dragging her clit over his abdomen as she lifted up, only to slam back down on him. Dark hair swung around his face as he tilted his face up, dragging at her bottom lip with his teeth, nipping at her chin and pressing kisses along her jaw. His fingers flexed, digging into her hips and helping her move, _faster,_ as he thrust up, instinctively trying to follow as she pulled away, only to shudder as she enveloped him in molten heat once more.

Some day, he swore, he would watch her eyes while they made love. He had imagined a thousand times how they would darken with desire, cloud over with lust. How they would flutter shut, dark lashes fanning against pale cheeks as she lost herself in the sensation. Some day, he vowed, it would be his name that spilled from her lips when she came.

For now, he contented himself with licking and kissing along her neck and chest while she ground against him, breathless pants and moans driving him higher towards that peak. Leaning forward, her caught the tip of her breast between his teeth, drawing her nipple into his mouth and sucking, delighting in the sweet and slightly sticky taste of marshmallow syrup that still lingered on her skin. 

Above him, Marinette gasped, hips faltering as her walls fluttered around his aching flesh. Grabbing her hips, Adrien helped guide her rhythm. Nipping her sensitive flesh of her breast, delighting in her helpless whine, but soon found himself distracted as she clamped down around him. 

Adrien fell over the edge with a moan, muscles tensing as he slammed her down onto his lap, impaling her on his cock as he lost himself to the heat and pressure and pleasure that she wrung from him. 

Marinette collapsed against him in the aftermath, forehead dropping against his shoulder as they panted and twitched.

“So,” She asked breathlessly, “what do you want to do with the other three hours?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bronte gives me no end of grief for how much plot gets included in my porn. =P
> 
> *Thanks to Valin-dana for correcting my marshmallow recipe!


	10. Decorating (Adrinette)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 10: Decorating by Bronte  
> Pairing: Adrinette
> 
> Please feel free to skip through the pairings that don't interest you! Check the chapter names for pairings.

     10. Decorating

It only takes a few minutes before she gives in.

Sixteen to be exact.

(Not that she’s counting.)

It’s the first time they’ve actually found time to decorate a tree in the three years that they’ve been together, what with the constant barrage of other commitments they’ve had to tackle in December's prior. Usually, this was something she did with her parents but the bakery had been slammed with orders as of late and both Marinette and Adrien had miraculously found a rare night off that they could actually share together.

Naturally, he came over to her home and insisted on helping with the decorations.

Except he isn’t really helping, not with the way he’s balancing on his toes, the hem of his t-shirt riding just above the waistband of his jeans, revealing a sliver of skin she so desperately wants to touch. She feels her desire begin to bubble as he saunters around the room, considering the tree carefully, looking for a place to hang a hand painted silver and blue snowflake her grandmother had sent from Rome. He reaches up towards the angel and there he goes again, the cotton fabric riding up his abdomen and  _ god,  _ she wants to press her lips against his skin and  _ taste _ him.

“Marinette?”

She drags her thoughts away from his body and locks eyes with him, drawing a startled gasp from between her lips. He raises a brow, his eyes alive with a smirk and a dare and he lifts both his arms this time, stretching and leaning back to loosen the muscles along his spine, revealing even more of him, the defined planes of his abs, the tuft of blond hair just above the button of his jeans. 

He grins, the undeniable look of  _ I know exactly what you’re thinking _ shining mischievously in his eyes.

“Like what you see?”

_ Fuck. _

There’s no preamble, no fuss and she’s on him in an instant, tugging his t-shirt up and over his head and roughly lacing her fingers through the belt loops of his jeans before he can so much as figure out what’s happening. She’s kissing him fiercely, frustrated and desperate and  _ throbbing _ with need and if he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it in the way he wraps his arms around her waist, growling against her lips until it dissolves into a satiated purr, pleased as punch that the little show of his had finally born fruit. 

He smiles into her kiss and revels in the way she clambers for control, possessive and stubborn both in and out of the suit. The thought of it alone makes him want to pin her to the wall right then and there and he doesn’t waste any time, making quick work of her clothes. Her jeans drop the the floor, her turquoise sweater and lace bralette disappear somewhere over his shoulder and suddenly she’s standing there in front of him in nothing but a pair of pink panties, panting and gasping for breath.

Smirking, Adrien grabs her by the wrists and ignores her whine of protest, pushing her up against the nearest wall beside the tree. He restrains her arms above her head and grinds his hips against hers, her eyes darkening with desire as she arches her back and keens, stoking his arousal. He follows the curve of her neck with his lips, trailing a line of sloppy kisses against the heated skin as her eyelids flutter closed, her lips parting in a silent cry, breathing his name.

He can’t quite stifle his groan as she throws her head back and sighs, his erratically beating heart pounding in his ears. He gasps for oxygen and darts in for another hungry kiss, greedy and eager for the taste of marshmallows and hot cocoa on her lips. Panting, he breaks away and continues to trail fiery kisses all the way down the column of her throat, nipping playfully at her collarbone, grazing his teeth against her skin. She squirms, her entire body begging for more as he hardens against her, tilting her head to offer him better access to her body. She shivers at the fantasies that spring up in her imagination, his hard body moving against her, thrusting inside her, making her toes curl and her thighs quiver with delirious need. 

Marinette moans against his mouth and struggles to free her arms from his grasp, smiling victoriously when he finally relinquishes so she can work on the button of his jeans. She traces every muscle in his abdomen with her fingers as she takes the waistband within her grasp, gently forcing the fabric down past his hips. They quickly go the way of his t-shirt and he kicks them off his ankles only to return to her eagerly, worrying her lower lip between his teeth. She groans at the pleasure/pain and a rush of heat suddenly floods her core with the knowledge that only two, impossibly thin layers of fabric are keeping him from thrusting inside her and  _ fuck, _ she needs him now.

Any other time, he would gladly spend hours exploring every centimetre of her skin, worshipping and relishing in every rasp and moan and sound she’d make with every barely-there touch, but now? Now he just wants her, bare and writhing against him on the floor, on the couch, against the wall, wherever she’ll take him. He can feel how wet she is already, his fingertips dipping between her folds and slipping inside her, his teasing and tormenting pace sending her skyward. 

She’s slick and ready for him as he snakes his hand from between her thighs, ignoring her whimpers of frustration in favour of hooking his fingers on the strap of her panties and shoving them downwards. He does the same with his briefs and pins her hands to the wall above her again, grinding his hips steadily against hers as his free hand begins its devious descent, tracing his way down the side of her body. He nips at her pulsepoint as his fingers play, kissing a heated path along her jaw as she shivers in anticipation, his cock just centimetres from her clit. 

“Adrien…” she rasps against his lips as his fingers skate over her breasts, teasing his thumbs over her nipples. The sensation is overwhelming, each touch leading her closer and farther from where she really wants him, inside her, splayed on the floor/couch/wall with his fingers grazing her clit. She throws her head back and closes her eyes, a victim to the sensation and she doesn’t want it to end.

Sensing her mounting frustration, Adrien grips her by the hips and picks her up effortlessly, years of flying over rooftops having done him more favours than most. She wraps her legs around his waist and clutches his shoulders desperately, determined to keep their bodies pressed together as he deposits her on the couch and climbs on top of her, pushing in to the hilt and filling her entirely with one stroke.

Marinette groans and buries her face against the crook of his neck as he pulls out and thrusts again, his rhythm picking up quickly, demanding and swift. It had been days since they’d last had a moment to themselves and the pent up desire, the all encompassing need to claim him had her quivering and pleading against his skin, flushed and already undone and  _ god, _ he’s thrusting into her  _ hard, _ pressing her into the cushions of the couch relentlessly and it’s nothing short of heavenly, the way his mouth seeks hers, messy kisses and breathy moans and he’s gasping her name, nipping her earlobe and losing himself in the halo of her hair. Marinette tries to hold on, tries to keep pace with him as he moves within her and  _ fuck, _ she can already feel her release coming and it’s been what, two minutes? Twenty? She can’t tell anymore, not with the way the tension is coiling up inside of her, forcing her closer and closer to her peak. 

She digs her fingernails in the pale expanse of his back and tightens her legs around him, his thrusts hard and exquisitely deep and she’ll probably find bruises all over her body tomorrow but right now she doesn’t care about anything except the electric shocks of pleasure tingling in her fingertips, radiating from her clit to her toes. There’s nothing gentle about the way he’s rocking up against her, forcing her up the precipice and holding her there for one excruciating, agonising second before falling, tumbling and leaving her blinded.

She cries out, her lips finding his as she comes with enough force to nearly send her through the floor, knocking her senses for a loop and all she can feel is her own release, surrendering, collapsing, quivering with the force of it as she starts to come down, her limbs turned to jelly. She cards her fingers through his hair as he gasps against her skin, the strength of his thrusts wavering as he gasps desperately, her name tearing from his lips in one last raspy prayer.

They attempt to come to sometime later and she’s still pinned beneath him, languid and glowing with lazy kisses. He shifts and rolls off of her, collecting her up in his arms as she continues to breathe heavily, the fading aftershocks still leaving shivers in their wake. 

“Your parents will wonder why we’re taking so long,” he murmurs against the shell of her ear, tightening his grasp. Somehow, Marinette manages to find enough energy to roll her eyes.

“No they won’t,” she hums in protest, threading her fingers through his bangs, “But we better keep going anyway.”

“Do we  _ have _ to?” Adrien whines and Marinette smirks, tugging his hair ever so slightly. She slips from his embrace and bends to pick up her panties, arching her back and spreading her legs. His wide eyes don’t go unnoticed as she swings them back and forth from her outstretched finger, planting her free hand on her hip.

“Help me finish and I’ll make it worth your while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sinners! I'm back with your daily dose of quick and dirty smut! 
> 
> We're ten days in and I hope you've been enjoying yourself so far!
> 
> Also, if you read Masquerade and feel personally victimized by the way I ended it, you'll be in for a treat tomorrow :)
> 
> ~Bronte


	11. Christmas Tree (Ladrien)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 11: Christmas Tree by Bronte  
> Pairing: Ladrien
> 
> Hey Masquerade fans! (Masqueraders?) If you were also personally victimized by how I left the final chapter (it was a doozy of a cliffhanger), then this might just give you a little closure. If you never read my 80,000+ word porn with plot Smutember fic or have no intention of falling down that rabbit hole, scroll down to the asterix half way through the story (that’s where the smut begins).

 

      11. Christmas Tree

“Welcome, citizens of Paris, to the annual Christmas Tree Lighting Celebration!”

Ladybug smiles and waves from the stage as Mayor Bourgeois raises his arms with a jovial greeting from behind the podium, addressing the crowd with a booming laugh, “It is my pleasure to announce our special guests for the evening! These members of our incredible, resilient city have been working tirelessly to ensure that we are safe, happy and taken care of this holiday season!”

There’s another thunderous standing ovation as Mayor Bourgeois sweeps his arms around him, gesturing to the line of civil servants, philanthropists and local celebrities that line the platform, “First of all, we welcome our Chief of Police Philippe Loi and Emmanuelle Levac of the Parisian Council for Refugees…”

Mayor Bourgeois continues to ramble off a veritable list of notable names, each gathering an enthusiastic smattering of applause from the enormous crowd there to witness the annual ceremony. Ladybug tries to stay focused on the proceedings but the spotlights are blinding and the man that stands a few metres away even more so.

“...Jean Tremblay of Love in A Box charitable organisation for underprivileged children, Adrien Agreste of the Hospital for Sick Children…”

She tries to keep her grin from splitting her face in half, she really does but _god,_ it is hard when she turns his way and he actually has an honest to goodness smile on his face.

“...and finally, our most honoured guest and the saviour of the greatest city in the entire world, Ladybug!”

Ladybug steps forwards and waves, the light of the flashbulbs shining in her eyes. She’s long used to it after all this time in the spotlight, having been to hundreds of these festivals and galas over the years, and while most of the cameras seem to be fixated on her, many of them quickly turn back to the familiar face of a teenager who had graced many a newscast and tabloid in the past six months, his gentle smile brightening his perfect features.

The celebration continues with a few more speeches from the honoured guests and finally, _finally_ it’s time for what she was asked here to do. Unholstering her yoyo, Ladybug takes the huge star in one hand and launches herself up into the air with the other, circling the tree in spectacular fashion so as to give everyone the opportunity to take a photo. Sweeping upwards, she lands on the uppermost branches and paces the star on the very top of the tree, plugging in the ornament and closing the circuit, illuminating the entire 30 metre Christmas tree from top to bottom.

The crowd erupts into cheers and the festivities officially begin as the band begins to play and the choirs begin to carol. The shops lining the streets have stayed open late and street vendors from around the city offer warm cocoa and other holiday treats, beckoning Christmas revellers towards their stalls and stores. Ladybug watches from above for a few minutes and takes in the beautiful scene, the smiling faces and laughing children milling about, frolicking with one another. It’s about as picturesque as it can get after what had been the most turbulent six months of her life, and she’s glad that she’s finally able to see the lights at the end of the tunnel.

She spots him trying to make a clean exit from the platform towards the closed off section below but the media have already got their sights on him and begin their predictably consistent pursuit. She forces herself to let him fend for himself for a few moments, knowing full well that he’s more than capable of dealing with their questions on his own but she slips through the branches to get a closer look regardless in case he needs a distraction.

“M. Agreste! Do you have a moment?”

“M. Agreste was my father,” Adrien replies flatly, “As I’ve mentioned a million times before Mme. Chamack, you can call me Adrien.”

Fresh from the arrest and subsequent investigation into his father, Adrien had more or less thrown himself into his philanthropic endeavours for a number of reasons, many of which revolved around the fact that his father was a full-blown domestic terrorist and Adrien had to distance himself from Gabriel as far as possible. Hence the pomp and circumstance, the ceremony and fuss, and ultimately the need for his presence at the heavily televised tree lighting ceremony to kick off the holiday season.

Not that he was complaining too much; any opportunity to his Lady nowadays was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to miss, even if it meant having to face the media.

“This is the first holiday season you’ve had to face without your family. How are you faring?”

Ladybug expects his shoulders to tense and finds herself pleasantly surprised when Adrien doesn’t seem to react at all, “I’ve found myself an entirely new family of people who support me. Now, I don’t suppose you have any questions regarding the Holiday Toy Drive that Chat Noir and I have organised for next Thursday?”

There’s a distinct lack of response to his question and Ladybug can’t help but snort at the snark in his voice, ultimately revealing her position in the tree above his head. Caught, she sheepishly drops down onto the platform beside him and shrugs her shoulders, ignoring the cross sidelong glare he’s throwing her way.

“Sorry about that,” she mutters under her breath before turning towards the throng of newscasters and photographers, “I heard my partner’s name and I just had to drop by!”

This isn’t the first time Ladybug has mysteriously appeared to interrupt Adrien’s various interviews since the news broke that his father was accused of being _Le Papillon_. In fact, Nadja Chamack is fairly sure this is at least the one hundredth time the spotted superhero has impeded her efforts on getting the perfect scoop.

“That’s because I was telling all of these lovely reporters that Chat Noir and I are hosting a Holiday Toy Drive at the hospital next Thursday,” Adrien responds, his irritation at her constant mothering only barely audible in his tone of voice. Ladybug knows she’ll have to make it up to him later, having already been lectured repeatedly about how he can handle himself, but she just can’t help it. It's no secret how protective she's become over her partner, how protective she's always been; putting a tamper on her feelings had only led to...well, that's a story best left to the past.

~~(Or a sequel.)~~

“Sorry Chat couldn’t be here by the way,” Ladybug remarks without missing a beat, gently wrapping her arm around Adrien’s shoulder, “He wouldn’t have missed this for the world, but you know how he is. Last I heard, he was attending the fundraiser for the cardiac care unit at l’ _Hôpital Necker_ tonight.”

“That’s right! So, unless you have any questions about the Toy Drive, I’ll be heading off to the fundraiser myself,” Adrien tips his head to the side knowingly, basking in their momentary silence, “Well, that settles it. Ladybug, could I ask you a favour? Uber prices are probably surging, and I was wondering if you would be able to give me a lift?”

Ladybug grins, “Of course. Chat is probably looking for you as we speak! Hold on!”

With a swoop and a wave, Ladybug wraps her arm around his waist and tosses her yoyo into the sky, launching them both into the air at breakneck speeds. Adrien grabs onto her shoulders for dear life, heedless to the way his stomach seems to have dropped out of his body and whoops as he soars up into the street tops of Paris, away from the prying eyes of the media and cityfolk alike.

“You know,” he grumbles, his tone contradicting the windswept look of elation in his eyes as she sets him down, “You don’t need to babysit me every time I have an interview.”

“I wasn’t,” Ladybug replies and she’s only partially lying, “I just so happened to be up there when you tried to make a break for it.”

Adrien crosses his arms and peers idly from the rooftop they’d landed on across the square, “Eavesdropping, you mean?”

“Me? Eavesdrop?” Ladybug puts on an act, pressing a hand to her chest as if highly affronted, “I would _never_.”

“Yes you would,” Adrien responds, leaning against the wrought iron railings of the patio, “So how about you make it up to me?”

Ladybug raises a brow, “Make it up to you? How do you suppose I do that?”

“Oh, I have a few ideas in mind,” Adrien smirks, traipsing towards her, “And all of them have to do with the fact that I haven’t seen you in a week.”

“It’s the end of the semester,” Ladybug replies sheepishly, scratching at the hairs at the back of her neck, “I’ve been designing a spring line and it’s been taking me forever to get the tailoring right and I _mmpff_!”

*He pulls her into his chest and kisses her desperately, messy and rough and Marinette hesitates only for a moment before kissing him back with fervour, relishing in his pent up frustrations. Life had gotten in the way of many things, but she’d always find time for him, always find time for _this_ , whether it be in a bed or on a rooftop, just like old times.

Emboldened, Ladybug breaks away and crouches down in front of him, quickly divesting him of his favourite leather belt so as to unbutton the clip of his trousers with ease. She pulls down the zipper and shoves the waistband past his hips and knees, pushing his cashmere sweater upwards so she can lick patterns onto the sensitive skin of his abdomen, pressing kisses to the hollows of his hip bones. She chances a glance upwards and revels in the way his eyes shine in the ambient light of the Christmas tree across the way, his pupils blown wide with sudden arousal and Ladybug settles in, happy to sit for the long haul.

“Marinette,” he growls, and Ladybug savours the low purr of Adrien’s voice in its deeper register, rough with need and desperation and something else she can’t quite put her finger on. He buries his fingers into her pigtails as she continues laving her tongue along the dip above his thigh with affection, nipping and licking the pale, delicate skin she finds there. He lets out a sharp hiss as her teeth scrape further downwards, just barely grazing past the meticulously groomed curls there.

She nuzzles up against him, running the tips of her fingers up and down his sides and Adrien swallows thickly, shuddering with anticipation. She presses her lips against the pulse point at the jut of his hip and hooks her gloved fingers around the waistband of his briefs, pushing them down, his cock jutting earnestly against his abdomen. Ladybug runs her hands up and down his thighs until he feels goose pimples, her fingertips caressing faint patterns against his skin and the way he says her name, wrecked and frantic spurns her onwards, his length gently brushing her cheek.

“Please…” he begs, and Ladybug doesn’t need much more motivation than that. She looks up at him, slack-jawed and gorgeously flushed, and licks him root to tip.

Adrien _writhes._

Ladybug reaches upwards and grasps the root of his cock, taking the head in her mouth and dragging her fingers up and down his shaft. She pulls away and licks her lips as she presses a chaste kiss to the head, content to watch him shudder and bury his fingers in his hair, pulling the strands to keep himself from losing it right then and there. She does love a challenge and Ladybug starts twisting her wrist in time with her mouth, increasing the pressure just a little bit with every sloppy pass. She uses her free hand to stroke his thigh, her fingers trailing back up towards his hip bones and back down again over and over, a gentle counterpoint to the way she hums against his shaft, ruthless in her rhythm and Adrien throws his head back, crying her name like a prayer.

There are bright pops of colour behind his eyelids that are most certainly not those of the Christmas lights and Adrien holds onto the railing behind him, utterly disarmed, shuddering with pleasure. Ladybug groans around his cock, her clit throbbing relentlessly against her suit and she’s burning with need, the desire to mark him with her fingertips, the need to press bruises into his thighs overwhelming. She wants him to remember this tomorrow morning when he wakes up, she wants him to shatter into her touch and she wants to swallow every moan and cry, bobbing her head and sucking harder and _—_

“Marinette,” Adrien chokes out, half sobbing into his palm, “ _Please—_ ”

He gasps out loud, broken and wanton and Ladybug grasps his hips, holding him steady as he comes in hot spurts against her tongue. She sucks him through it, indulging in the way he cries out incoherently, ragged and breathless and falling to pieces on a rooftop in Paris, completely and utterly hers. She lets him go and sits back on her heels, stretching her jaw as he keeps his eyes screwed shut, flushed and spent and quivering against the sensation of the night.

_Safeword (Masquerade’s Sequel) — Now Posted_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this one as much as I did! 
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> ~Bronte


	12. Christmas Movie (Ladrien pt1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 12: Christmas Movie
> 
> The movie is just a front. Still, he goes through the effort anyway.

The movies were just a front. Adrien knew it, Ladybug knew it...hell, even Plagg probably knew it (not that he cared). Still, Adrien had taken great pleasure in perusing the selection of Christmas movies available to him and picking out the ones he thought she would like best. He’d prepared snacks and plumped the couch pillows before she arrived, blowing in with the chill and a few stray snowflakes. He’d turned off the lights to his room, except for the strand of Christmas lights around his balcony, and the little artificial tree he’d placed off to the side.

Nobody was going to watch the movies. Instead, they provided background noise as he and Ladybug chatted; a idle distraction for the moments when conversation lulled, or even a conversation starter when they ran out of words. But eventually the words did run out, and the two wound up cuddled on the couch, idly watching the last few minutes of _L’Apprenti du Père Noël._

“Adrien?”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Startled, Adrien blinked, his eyebrows quirking upwards as he looked down to where she was resting with her head on his chest. Big blue eyes stared back at him, dark in the low light that filtered from the television. She didn’t look upset; merely curious and maybe slightly drowsy from the late hour.

“Of course.” He found himself saying. “But I don’t want you to think the only reason I want your company is for the kisses. I like spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you, too.” Ladybug smiled at him. “But I also like kisses.”

“Oh, well then.” Adrien grinned leaning down and pecking her on the nose. “Is that what you wanted?”

“That’s a nice start.” Ladybug bit her lip, trying to keep a straight face. 

“Hmm.” Adrien’s lips twisted and his brow furrowed as he pretended to mull it over. Leaning down, he placed a kiss on her forehead, brushing her bangs aside to kiss her above her mask. “Is that what you meant?”

Ladybug’s hand came up to cover her mouth as she giggled. “Not quite.”

Adrien grinned. “Guess I’ll keep trying, then.”

Adrien peppered kisses across her cheeks and nose, pressing his lips tenderly along her jaw and one on the dimple in her chin. He kissed along her neck, paying reverent attention to the pulse point just below her ear. He kissed the back of her hand, something he had done hundreds of times under a different name, before pressing teasing kisses and nibbles on her fingers and wrists. By the time he got to her mouth, they were both needy and a little breathless, and he wasted no time wrapping an arm around her and drawing her closer.

Ladybug moaned into his mouth, arms winding around his neck as she surged against him. Adrien reciprocated in kind, fingers digging into her hips to press her closer. He was sure that his Lady could feel him hardened against her, but it was hard to care about proper behavior when her hands were in his hair and her mouth was on his. He wasn’t able to stifle the gasp when she pressed against him, deliberately rubbing along his erection.

“Ladybug…”

“Can we take this somewhere a bit less...confined?” She asked earnestly. 

Adrien snorted as he led her to the bed. What was he going to say? No? Not a chance.

They fell onto the bed together, her lips immediately seeking out his as their kisses became ore frenzied and less playful as their hands roamed. Ladybug gasped as Adrien’s hand closed over her breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as he squeezed. Adrien swallowed her gasp as his tongue curled inside her mouth.

Ladybug smoothed her hands up his sides, running gloved palms over the planes and ridges of his abdomen as she pushed the shirt up. Adrien grasped the edges of the shirt, separating from her long enough to yank it over his head and toss it aside. Twisting, Adrien opened the drawer to his nightstand, frantically tugging out a sleep mask and a box of condoms.

Making sure the sleep mask was secure, he rolled back to face his Lady, pulling her closer and pressing her into the mattress as he licked and sucked at her neck.

“Release the transformation.” He pleaded hoarsely.

A murmur later and the peculiar tingling sensation of her transformation flashed over his skin, so different from the almost electric charge he associated with Plagg. A wash of pink light flared briefly under the mask and the smooth fabric of her suit gave way to more common cotton. Adrien wasted no time burying his fingers underneath the hem, running his hands along the bare skin of her stomach and ribs before he reached her breasts.

“No bra?” He murmured, eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Pajamas.” Ladybug replied breathlessly. “Besides, I had a feeling that I knew how this night would end.”

“Call it a hunch.” Adrien sniggered, pinching the nipples beneath his fingertips and relishing her gasp. 

“Maybe.” She replied, fingers diving past the elastic waistband of his casual lounge pants and underwear to grasp his erection directly. Adrien couldn’t stifle the groan as her fingers closed around him, nor the hum of satisfaction as she began stroking him. “Take them off.”

“You have more clothes on than I do.” Adrien pointed out, but he had already rolled over, regrettably moving her fingers as he lifted his hips to kick off his bottoms. Next to him he could hear Ladybug doing the same. The mattress shifted as she sat up, tugging off her shirt as well before rolling back to face him.

Her hand immediately reclaimed its place even as her mouth sought out his. Adrien’s groin tightened as she began stroking him with renewed vigor and he couldn’t stop his hips from thrusting against her hand. Trying to distract himself from her talented fingers, his hand trailed over her side, tracing the curve of her hip down to the juncture of her thighs. 

Ladybug helpfully spread her thighs to grant him access, and Adrien’s fingers slipped down through her curls to trace the seam of her lower lips, dipping a finger in.

“You are so wet.” He breathed, pressing a second finger into her entrance. He nearly lost it right then and there as he slick warmth closed in around him, squeezing his fingers. Tilting his wrist, Adrien rubbed the heel of his hand against her clit, smiling as her hips jerked and she gasped.

“This is going to end quickly if you keep making those noises.” He warned her, curling his fingers inside of her, pressing them against her inner walls, reveling in the soft slickness.

“I don’t care.” Ladybug whined, writhing under his hand. “I want you.”

Adrien moved, shifting her onto her back before leaning down to search out her breast. Taking a hardened nipple into his mouth, he sucked strongly, pinching it with his teeth. Ladybug had already lost her grip on his erection as it had moved out of her reach, and now her hands came up, winding around him to clasp him to her. 

Adrien smiled around her breast, rolling her nipple and laving it with his tongue as he thrust his fingers into her, grinding the heel of his palm against her clitoris as her hips bucked under his hand. She panted and writhed, helpless whines gradually increasing in pitch and volume until she came apart with a breathless cry, her inner walls squeezing his fingers like a vice as they fluttered and shook.

“Wh-what about you?” She asked a moment later, still dragging air into deprived lungs.

“The night’s not over yet.” Adrien replied, leaning down to kiss her tenderly. “When you’re ready, grab a condom from the box, please?”

Ladybug shifted underneath him, and he heard the box being opened and a condom being removed. 

“Sit up.” Ladybug directed, urging him off of her.

Adrien did so, reluctantly dragging his fingers out of her pussy and leaning back on his knees. He held out a hand for the condom, but Ladybug bypassed his hand, and he shuddered as she rolled it down his length. Adrien let her take the lead, guiding him down onto her and bracing himself above her so she could line him up with her entrance. 

She sighed when he pressed into her, sheathing himself to the hilt in one quick stroke before retreating and advancing again. Above her, Adrien’s forehead dipped, coming to rest against her shoulder as he groaned, unable to focus on anything except the delicious heat and friction surrounding him. Ladybug’s knees bent, feet pressing into the mattress so she could meet his thrusts as she wound her arms around him, moaning.

He really wasn’t going to last long, Adrien thought ruefully, gasping as his Lady’s fingernails dragged down his back, grabbing his ass cheeks and squeezing before sliding back up to tangle in his hair. She was so warm around him, her walls pressing against him and adding to the amazing sensations that had his sack tightening, pulling up taunt in preparation for release. 

It wouldn’t take much, he thought, snapping his hips and driving into her ruthlessly. All he needed was-

 _“A-Adrien…”_ Ladybug moaned his name, a breathless plea as her thighs clamped around him, and her walls squeezed him.

Behind the sleep mask Adrien’s eyes clenched, mouth dropping open as ecstasy shook his limbs and his rhythm faltered. He came with a moan, pressing her into the mattress, hips driving him as far in as he could go. His release washed over him and he spilled his seed into the condom in hot spurts.

They lay panting in the aftermath. Clinging to each other and twitching feebly in the dark, exchanging kisses and whispers, small affections as they lingered. Eventually though, Adrien had to pull out, kneeling on the bed and grasping the used latex around his softening cock awkwardly.

“I, uh, need to go take care of this.” He said. No matter how often they found themselves in this situation, he reflected regretfully, it never got easier.

“I need to go anyway.” Ladybug said softly. “It’s late.”

“Alright.” He sighed, heart clenching as she sat up, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips. “When will I see you?”

“Soon.” She murmured, bare fingers tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “You know I can never stay away long.”

“I’ll see you then.” _My Lady_ sat on the tip of his tongue, unvoiced, as he scooted off of the bed, turning away. Tugging the sleep mask off, he opened his eyes and made his way to the bathroom, deliberately not looking back.

When he returned, she was gone, as she always was. The only signs of her presence in his life were the half-eaten bowl of popcorn and a used condom. Sighing, Adrien retrieved his discarded pants, slipping them on and sliding between the rapidly cooling sheets. Someday, he vowed, they would stop hiding from each other, and when he returned, she would be there waiting for him. Someday she would sleep by his side instead of slipping back into the darkness, and someday he would wake up and be able to look into her unmasked eyes in the morning.

Someday. But for now, he would take what he could get.


	13. Christmas Cookies (Adrienette pt2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 13: Christmas Cookies (Santa Baby pt 2)  
> Santa Baby pt1: Chapter 7 - Gift
> 
> Leaving off making a large order of Christmas Cookies for Nino's party probably wasn't the best idea, but they'd wanted to do it together and this was the only chance. Getting distracted wasn't part of the plan, but that's okay: sleep is for the weak, right?

Icing cookies had turned into icing each other which had devolved into sex against the door of the supply room, and though embarrassed, Marinette couldn’t find it in herself to regret it.

(But she’d never be able to look at that door without blushing and/or embarrassed giggles again.)

Luckily, the bakery had been closed and her parents ensconced upstairs, probably getting ready for bed. Truthfully, that’s what she and Adrien should have been doing as well, but the Christmas party was _tomorrow night._ There was no way they could ask her parents to use their their work equipment during business hours, and even if she could have gotten away one evening to accomplish this, Adrien had desperately wanted to be involved. So here they were on a Friday night, icing one hundred and fifty Christmas cookies for the party being thrown at the club Nino worked at.

To be fair, this actually counted as an order for her parent’s bakery, but they’d offered to cut the price in half if they made them themselves. Marinette couldn’t fault them: Christmas time was _busy_ for the bakery, which was manned only by her parents and two part-time employees that rotated work days. Being able to do this took some stress off of their shoulders, while still making a little bit of profit.

“We should have made Nino and Alya come do this with us.” Marinette remarked, piping ornaments onto (yet another) edible Christmas tree. Adrien was ahead of her, piping thin icing onto the outlined cookies. It wasn’t anything fancy - just little dots or dragging designs on basic shapes - but they were turning out very well nonetheless.

“Could you really see Nino or Alya doing this?” Adrien asked, brow furrowed in concentration.

“...No, not really.” Marinette agreed after a moment’s consideration. “But they could have helped with the other cookies. You know, the chocolate chip ones. Or the snickerdoodle ones.”

“Something to consider for next year, then.” Adrien said absently.

Marinette paused in her icing, biting her lip. Here was her opening. She could say it casually, something like ‘I don’t think we could do it this late though. The baby will probably be asleep. Maybe if it were upstairs in a cot?’ and it would definitely surprise him. Knock his socks off, really. Icing would go everywhere and it would be hilarious. Plagg would howl when she recounted it to him later, and be sorry he slept through it.

But… Marinette chewed her lip, debating between the hilarity that would ensue if she said it now, versus the half-baked scheme she had going on in the back of her mind. As the silence stretched out and the two of them continued icing, Marinette fell on the side of keeping it secret a while longer. She’d missed the moment, anyway.

“But then again…” Adrien drawled, having reached the end of his cookie row. “If Nino and Alya were here, I couldn’t do _this.”_

She should have seen it coming, really. Hell, she should have done it _herself._ But no, she was so caught up in her thoughts that when Adrien turned around and slathered the watered-down icing on her face, it was completely unexpected.

“Adrien!” She gasped, blinking and grimacing at the green icing that was smeared on her nose and cheeks.

“What?” Adrien grinned. “Green looks good on you.”

Marinette swiped some off of her cheek and eyed it consideringly. 

“Nah, too dark.” She declared, smirking. “It should be a little...brighter.”

Still holding her husband’s gaze, she opened her mouth and slowly sucked the icing off of her finger, palming some of the thicker red icing she had been using. Thoroughly distracted, Adrien’s watched as her finger popped out of her mouth and she licked the lingering sweetness off of her lips.

“Besides,” she added, sauntering towards him. She was unable to stop the grin as her other hand darted out to smear red icing over his face. “I think red is more your color!”

Did that make sense? No. But it was all she could think to say, and it was fun to yell, so Marinette went with it, grinning widely as Adrien gasped, eyes widening in shock. Gaping at her grinning face, his green eyes narrowed intently.

“Oh,” He growled, and Marinette shivered at the tone, “it’s on.”

Marinette squealed as he lunged towards her, turning and darting around the table. Adrien was still carrying the piping bag he’d been using, and Marinette snatched up one from the rack - a yellow one, she noted absently - as she ran past. Turning, she fired it in his direction and watched it splatter across his shirt.

In response, green icing fired back at her like a sugary water gun.

Icing flew everywhere: it was smeared across clothes, splattered on cupboards and swiped across the cooling oven as Adrien and Marinette chased each other around the bakery kitchen. Marinette was sure she had two different green icings in her hair, and Adrien’s blue button-down shirt was decorated in yellow and red.

Finally, Adrien was able to corner her, reaching out and batting the icing bag from her hand as he pinned her against the door to the supply room.

“Say mercy.” He growled.

“Never!” Marinette laughed.

“Mercy. Or I’ll shove frosting in your mouth.” Adrien held the top of the bag up to her lips.

Morning sickness hadn’t really been bad - nor was it restricted to mornings. So far, it was more of an all-day queasiness that she could easily work around. Still, the thought of that much frosting in her mouth made her want to gag.

“Oh, gross.” Marinette’s nose scrunched up as she flinched. “Okay, mercy. Mercy! You win.”

“Damn right I do.” Adrien said, right before he proceeded to kiss her senseless.

Arousal hit her like a freight train as Adrien dominated her attention, his lips and tongue demanding her focus. Marinette moaned in response, yielding, her mouth opening as she became pliant in his arms. Her hands reached up of their own accord, wrapping around his back and gripping his belt loops, pulling him flush against her.

Adrien reached under her buttocks, gripping her thighs and lifting her to wrap her legs around his waist. His lips trailed across her cheeks and down her neck, licking and sucking at the skin that still tasted faintly of icing as he ground against her core. She shuddered at the contact, canting her hips in response.

“Adrien.” His name was part gasp, part command. Adrien took it as the consent it was, letting her down so he could fumble with his belt buckle while she slipped her panties off. She kicked them away absently, her lips already on his skin, tasting the icing that had seemed so repulsive only minutes ago.

It must be him then, she thought faintly, that tasted so good. She started to unbutton his shirt, kissing the skin she found underneath when she felt her skirt being pushed up. Adriens fingers ghosted across her skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. Marinette gasped as he slid a finger down her slit, dipping between her lips. Automatically she widened her stance so he could push a finger into her.

“So wet already.” He breathed, pumping his finger in and out of her a few times before adding a second.

“Well, what can I say?” Marinette shrugged, trying for casual but falling short of the mark, betrayed by the breathless hitch in her voice. “I guess you do things to me, hot stuff.”

Adrien pulled his fingers out of her, drawing the moisture up and circling her clit. 

“Oh, I’ll do things to you.” He agreed as her eyes fluttered closed. He lifted her back up, her legs wrapped around his waist, skirt bunching between them as he pressed her to the wall. Reaching down, he grabbed his cock, tilting it up and searching for her.

Marinette slid down the wall, tilting her hips so he slipped inside when she felt his head at her entrance. She couldn’t help the moan the spilled from her lips as he stretched her. Her movement was fairly limited, but she ground herself against him as best she could, enjoying the friction on her clit as she encouraged him to move.

Adrien did so, rocking against her with short, hard thrusts. His breath was hot as he panted against her neck and his cock was nearly vertical inside of her. Marinette’s legs clenched around him, the friction and pressure sending her spiraling higher. Her eyes were clenched shut, every sense focused on the way this position let Adrien hit every pleasure point as he slammed into her, hips thrusting. He was _so deep,_ and it-

Marinette bit into his shoulder to muffle her scream as she hit her peak, every muscle tightening almost to the point of pain as ecstasy slammed into her and sent her spiraling. Figuratively shoved off a cliff, she was free falling as white-hot starbursts exploded behind her eyes. Dimly she was aware of Adrien groaning, muscles flexing as he pressed against her in shared pleasure, spine curving under the weight of his orgasm. He collapsed against her, pinning her to the wall as he dragged in lungfuls of air.

Slowly he released her, sliding down until the was standing on wobbly legs as they grinned at each other goofily. 

“That was…” Adrien huffed out a breath. He watched in amusement as his wife slid down the wall, legs bending until she was sitting on the floor. She smiled up at him, covered in frosting, hair a mess, looking so delightfully rumpled and sexed-up and _happy_ that he wanted to kiss her again. 

“Yeah.” Marinette agreed, tilting her head back until it thunked gently against the wall. “Wow. My legs don’t want to work.”

“Mine either.” Adrien chuckled, eyes closing as he attempted to catch his breath.

“At least it was quick.” Marinette mused.

“It was.” Adrien agreed. He’d have been shocked if the entire encounter, start to (explosive) finish, had taken more than five minutes.

“That’s probably for the best.” Marinette sighed. “I don’t want to be here until four in the morning cleaning.”

Adrien’s eyes flew open in shock, blinking dumbly as he recalled the mess behind them. Frosting had gotten _everywhere,_ and it didn’t matter how much Sabine loved him - his mother-in-law would flatly kill them if they left that mess to be discovered in the morning.

“Yeah, well, sleep is for the weak. We’ve gone without before, right Bugaboo?” Adrien chuckled ruefully as he tucked himself back into his pants and did up his zipper. 

“I’m weak: I’ll own it if that means I get sleep.” Marinette said solemnly. “But...maman is scarier than any akuma.”

Pushing away from the wall, Adrien laughed as he held his hand out to her. “Then I guess we had better get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so if you looked at the summary before leaping into the smut, you noticed that this chapter was labeled "Santa Baby _pt 2_ " Which means there will be a part 3, so keep an eye out!
> 
> Also, Bronte pointed out that all of my Marichat drabbles seemed to take place in the same setting. Soo... I'm stringing them together into one story ach. I don't have a clever title, so right now MariChat1 was chapter one. Chapters eight and nine are MariChat2 and 3 respectively. Tentatively I've only got four planned, but that's subject to change. And on that note...
> 
> HELP! I'm at odds for what to do for Prompt 20: Mistletoe and Prompt 23: Christmas Lights. So I want to know what **YOU** want! If you have a pairing, situation, setting or position you want to see, speak up! I'd love to hear what you want done.


	14. Secret Santa (OT4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 14: Secret Santa
> 
> Damn, but it's a great game.

A lot of people did Secret Santa games. Offices, businesses, friends, people with really large families. It was generally a fun game. In the household that comprised of Nino Lahiffe, Alya Cesaire, Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste (aka the ACDCL house, aka the “wtf does that even mean?” house), Secret Santa got a _lot_ more entertaining. 

So when somebody snuck up behind him, wrapped a cloth over his eyes and dragged him out of the living room giggling, Nino grinned and went with it. Hands were on him as soon as the door shut, carefully tugging his shirt up over his head. Another set of hands worked on his pants, popping the button on his jeans and sliding them down his legs. 

Once it was established that the blindfold was still in place after his shirt was removed, there was a set of lips on his. Nino leaned into the kiss eagerly, angling his head to deepen the kiss as somebody’s hands trailed down his body, nails scraping. Nino started when warm lips wrapped around his cock and a tongue started caressing him. Another set of arms wound around his stomach, muscled thighs and a strong chest pressing against his back as Adrien started kissing his neck.

Nino moaned into the open mouth attached to his, shivering with the onslaught of sensations and his own rapidly escalating arousal. Hands continued to trail over him, caressing, teasing, tweaking his nipples or scraping lightly over his skin. He felt Adrien’s hand slither down his stomach, grasping the base of his erection and stroking it as the hand previously there let go. 

Two hands pressed against his thighs, fingers rubbing against his hip bones and the crease of his legs as the mouth working him continued. A slick finger probed his anus, pressing lightly inside,advancing and retreating, fucking him in time to the mouth on his cock. Nino was a moaning mess, hands clutching the slim shoulders in front of him to hold himself steady.

With one final suck, the mouth attached to him popped off and Nino shivered at the sudden sensation of cold air on hot skin slicked with saliva. The person kissing him nipped his lip lightly before backing up, and the fingers probing him retreated. After the previous physical onslaught it was a shock, and Nino couldn’t help the whimper at the sudden absence. 

“Oh come on, you know it’s not over.” Adrien whispered teasingly in his ear. “You still have to figure out who your secret Santa is.”

Another hand reached out, and Adrien released him as Nino was led to the bed and pushed down onto his back. A weight settled across his thighs, a pair of legs bracketing him as somebody slowly sank down on his cock. Nino groaned, automatically thrusting up to meet their warmth.

“Can I touch you yet?” He panted, twitching hands digging into their hips as the person on top rode him.

Instead of answering, they leaned down, pressing their lips to his, a pair of dainty hands cupping his face tenderly.

“Who am I?” they whispered.

Nino smiled. “I’d know you anywhere, Mari.”

Marinette giggled, slipping the blindfold off and smiling down at him as she ground against him. “Merry Christmas, Nino.”

Grasping her hips, Nino thrust into her warmth and smiled back. “Merry Christmas, Mari.”

 

Marinette was the next one to find herself naked and blindfolded, riding someone’s face as they gripped her thighs. Someone else’s mouth was on her breast, the other hand tugging her nipple in time to the sucking. Yet another hand was trailing down her back as she moaned.

“Do you know who your secret Santa is?” Alya’s voice asked from behind her.

“Nino or Adrien.” Marinette responded, shuddering as a pair of hands came up and grabber her ass roughly.

“Which one is it?” Alya whispered in her ear, nipping the lobe lightly.

“I don’t know,” Marinette whined. “I can’t touch them yet.”

“Soon.” Alya whispered.

A pair of fingers slipped inside of her as the person moved their mouth up to cover her clit, sucking on it strongly as Marinette cried out. The fingers inside of her curled, pressing against that sweet spot, and Marinette nearly fell forward as she came, muscles twitching as her hips stuttered in automatic response.

Alya laughed, pulling her off of the mouth and guiding her onto her back as she panted. 

Feeling the weight on the bed shift, Marinette automatically reached out, legs spreading as somebody slipped between them. She reached down, notching their erection at her her entrance and groaning as the pushed inside, hips flexing as they thrust into her.

“You can touch now.” Nino said. 

Marinette ran her hands up a smoothly muscled chest, caressing a chiseled jaw and burying her hands into smooth, straight hair before she dragged his face down to her.

Their lips parted, tongues brushing and thrusting in time with their bodies as he urged her towards a second orgasm. 

“Ah,” Marinette moaned, as she tilted her hips, changing the angle so her clit dragged up his abdomen with every thrust. “Mm, _Adrien.”_

The blindfold was removed and green eyes gleamed, her lover grinning at her before dipping his head to press kisses to her jawline. “Merry Christmas, Marinette.”

 

Adrien found himself on someone’s lap, panting and moaning as he slowly sank down. His own painfully erect cock twitched as he was breached, the faint ache giving way to pleasure as he worked his way down. He reached out, grabbing the headboard to help as he rose and fell before settling for a more rocking motion once he was fully seated.

Under him, a slicked hand reached out, grabbing his erection and pumping it. The fingers were too slim to be Nino’s, so he could also safely assume the dick he was on was a toy. Behind him there was a quiet giggle, and Adrien cried out, hips jerking as the toy he was on started vibrating inside him. Another set of hands brushed lightly over him, across his neck, over his shoulders, down his spine, a tender counterpoint to the vibrating toy inside him and the hand around him.

“Who is it Adrien?” Nino’s voice asked. “Do you know?”

“N- not you.” Adrien panted, trying to focus as the pressure building in him pushed him higher.

Nino chuckled, continuing to run his hands over his boyfriend as he rode the toy. “Well, that’s one down. Need a hint?”

“Pl- please.” Adrien pleaded, desperately trying to focus as the hand gipping him squeezed. 

Another body pressed up behind him, momentarily stilling his movements as they leaned over him, pressing kisses up his neck. Smooth long hair swung over his shoulder.

“A-Alya!” He gasped. “My Secret Santa is Alya.”

Behind him, Marinette nipped his shoulder, pulling off the blindfold as she backed away to let him move again. 

Adrien looked down into his girlfriend’s flushed face and bright hazel eyes.

She winked and blew him a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Handsome.” 

 

Alya moaned around the cock in her mouth, and the fingers in her hair tightened. Whoever was behind her was doing their best to keep their thrusts shallow, but she didn’t want shallow and gentle. She wanted hard and fast - she wanted to feel his balls slap up against her and she wanted to feel him jerk as he lost it inside her.

This slow and gentle shit was just frustrating. They were just being so fucking considerate: If Nino thrust too deep or hard, he could drive her forward onto Adrien and make her choke. Sweet and gentle and loving and so damn nice that she wanted to scream.

Still, Alya forced herself to be gentle: she wasn’t frustrated with her boyfriends, really, or Marinette, who was off to the side somewhere. They’d done a damn effective job of teasing her - she was wound tighter than a spring, panting and begging when they finally taken out the toy and replaced it with the real deal. She didn’t want them to make love to her - she wanted _wrecked._

Giving Adrien one last suck, Alya pulled her head back, giving his penis an apologetic kiss.

“Okay, boys,” She said, “this has been fun, but Adrien, I think Marinette needs a little attention.”

“You knew who your secret Santa was?” Adrien asked. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I like the blindfold.” Alya grinned.

Off to her right, Marinette broke into laughter. “I told you guys. I told you!”

Behind her, Nino chuffed breathlessly, still thrusting restlessly against her. “What gave us away?”

Under her blindfold, Alya raised a brow. “One, I’m the last person to go. Deductive reasoning, loves. Two… well.” She lifted the blindfold, peering up at a bemused-looking Adrien who was still kneeling, naked and erect, before her.

She leaned forward, pressing her lips against his cock with an exaggerated _muwah!_ Before winking up at him. “I’d know that dick anywhere.”

Behind her, Nino made a disbelieving noise.

“Oh, don’t worry babe, I know yours too.” Alya grinned at him over her shoulder. “But now, my Secret Santa, don’t you have a duty to fulfill?”

Nino barked out a laugh. “Only you, Alya. Only you.”

Pushing Adrien gently towards Marinette, she lowered her blindfold and pushed back against her lover. “Now, Nino-bear, since you’re not worried about choking me on Adiren’s cock… _fuck me.”_

Nino gripped her hips, slamming into her so hard she rocked forward, barely catching herself from face planting into the headboard. Nino paused, fumbling with something momentarily before nudging her with his knees, encouraging her forward.

“Up.” He commanded. “Grab the headboard.”

Alya shivered at the rough tone in his voice. Gripping the headboard, she raised herself up slightly. Nino leaned forward, reaching around and touching something vibrating to her clit. Pulling back, he slammed against her, settling a brutal pace.

Alya groaned happily, shivering as the coil that had been slowly unwinding inside of her began tightening once again. She pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts and feeling her breasts bounce with the force. This angle put him slightly under her, raising his cock and rubbing it against her walls.

He leaned against her, the warmth of his chest pressing against her, one hand rising to cup her breast, the other keeping the vibrator against her clit as his hips snapped and he thrust up into her. His fingers pinched her nipple, tugging it, and the faint spark of pain only served to excite her further. This was what she wanted, to be a panting, moaning wreck as her lover ploughed her into the mattress. (Or, well, headboard, but she wasn’t picky.)

Alya’s head tipped back, resting against her lover as he rocked her. A breathy moan was torn from her throat as Nino dominated her her senses, demanding her focus as she spiraled higher. Everything in her wound tighter, muscles tensing as she hung on the precipice. All she needed was _one more-_

Nino pulled back slightly, slamming against her so hard she jerked, his cock pressing hard against her outer wall and sending her flying over the edge. She screamed as the coil snapped, starbursts exploding behind her eyes as every muscle simultaneously tightened and went weak.

Nino was still thrusting when she collapsed, shaking, clinging to the headboard and weakly batting the vibrator away from her clit. She gasped, pulling air into her aching lungs as Nino pressed into her, grunting as his release washed over him. Panting, Alya pulled off the blindfold, glancing over where Adrien and Marinette were still going at it next to them.

Alya sighed happily. “I _love_ Christmas time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is getting out so late! I took a mental health day yesterday, and had errands to run today, so I didn't get started on this until late. 
> 
> Tomorrow Bronte is back! Yeah buddy I cannot wait!


	15. Caroling (MariChat)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 15: Caroling by Bronte  
> Pairing: MariChat
> 
> Thanks for the warm welcome Fairia! This chapter is inspired by a number of things, one of them being the Gigantian episode and their interaction with that giant baby monstrosity. Also, in the Masquerade-verse, Chat visits children's hospitals in his spare time.
> 
> Enjoy sinners!

     15. Caroling

“I can’t believe you talked me into this on a school night,” Ladybug grouses, heaving a bag full of presents three times her size over her shoulder, “I have a marketing final tomorrow.”

“That you’re going to pass with flying colours,” Chat assures her for the umpteenth time, pressing a gloved finger to the close button on the elevator, “You’ve only been studying  _ all _ week for it.”

“I have to ace it,” she grouses, exhaling forcefully so as to blow the bangs from her eyes, “If I don’t, it’s going to bring my average down and I’ll never get accepted to my top three work placements next semester and then I won’t get into the summer internship program I wanted and then _ — _ ”

“ _ — _ I get it, I get it,” Chat interupts her, rolling his eyes at her flustered glare through the reflection of the elevator's mirrored panels, “But you needed to de-stress and get out of your room so stop worrying so much, seriously.”

“We could have just had sex, you know.”

“You would have been thinking about your exam the whole time, trust me, I  _ know _ what you’re like,” Chat can’t help but goad her when she’s being like this, her predictable stubborn streak getting the best of her, “Besides, you need me to do that and I wouldn’t miss “Get Better Gift Night” for the world!”

As if on cue, the elevator doors open and twins Asmaa and Awatef are already waiting for him, squealing with glee as he steps from the threshold and scoops them both into his arms. Adjusting them so their little legs won’t tangle with the keyboard hanging from the strap across his back, Chat waddles out into the open space where a throng of children eagerly await his arrival, buzzing impatiently for their favourite guest.

“CHAT NOIR!!!”

Ladybug’s dour mood melts away as Chat is quite literally swallowed up by a mob of children of all ages clamouring for his attention, crushing him with greetings and hugs. Somehow, Chat’s golden laughter rings through the chaos as he does his best to placate his loyal fans, patting backs and ruffling hair and returning hugs whenever he can manage it. A few of the children shriek when they finally notice Ladybug standing a few metres away but none of them react quite like they do with Chat, engulfing him with stories and songs and random anecdotes only children can come up with. He takes it all in enthusiastically, spending his time trying to answer each and every one of their  ~~ increasingly ridiculous ~~ questions and to Ladybug, he’s never been so beautiful.

She stands and holds the bag open while he hands out each gift, reading off the labels he'd handwritten for each child stuck in the ‘Sick Kids’ wing of the hospital over the Christmas holiday. He seems to know each of them by name and the nurses and volunteers come in to help as well, wheeling over the girls and boys who can't quite make it over to him on their own. Chat takes a personal moment with those ones especially, folding his  6'2” frame in half in order to get down to their level and listen to their words, laughing with excitement when they ask him for a hug. It’s hard not to get tangled in the tubes and cords but he seems to manage flawlessly, remarkably gentle, always kind. 

The evening stretches into its final act and the carolling begins with vigour, something she knows he loves best. Chat grabs the keyboard from where he’d left it leaning against the nursing station and sets it up on a folding table, pounding out the opening chords to “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” for everyone to hear. The children gather around and sing along with him, filling the entire wing with the most raucous renditions of Christmas songs she’s ever heard in her life, and if her cheeks start to ache from smiling, well, no one is the wiser.

It’s only when the last notes of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” ring out that Ladybug realises how utterly, slack-jaw in love with him she is, which isn’t really news but still, it never quite fails to knock her off her feet and into the stratosphere. His face is cherry pink with exertion and laughter, twisting and twirling between tiny hands that beckon him closer, hoisting them up and into the air like weightless China dolls; he’s careful to keep his claws away and the children trust him intrinsically, the fact that he's the very harbinger of destruction completely lost on them. 

“Ready to go M’Lady?”

Ladybug shakes herself from her reverie and nods, waving as they make their way back towards the elevator. He wishes them all a goodnight and Ladybug waves over her shoulder, taking a weary breath as the doors slide closed behind them.

“That was awesome!” he exclaims with a bright smile, slouching against the railing. He’s still brimming with energy and she wonders how someone with such a sheltered upbringing could be so unfailingly extroverted when she can barely stay awake on her feet, “You and I should do this again!”

“Maybe when I’m done finals,” she yawns, covering her open mouth with her palm. The elevator doors open and they’re back on the main floor, waving to patients and staff alike before finally breaching the exit, revelling in the chill of the night. Ladybug unholsters her yoyo and swallows the urge to yawn again, taking deep, weary lungfuls of air to stave off the urge to sleep, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Let me at least accompany you home,” Chat responds, slipping his baton from its holster. She nods again and they take off across the boulevards, soaking up the Christmas lights illuminating the streets and homes as they leap along the rooftops, the City of Lights well and truly afire with the spirit of the season. The boats on the Seine, the statues in the parks, the giant Christmas trees erected in the squares around Paris…

She spots her balcony in the distance, the red and green fairy lights wrapped around the railing standing out against the darkness of the bakery. Judging by the hour, her parents are already fast asleep which means they won’t be bothering her if she spends the early hours with her lamp still on, studying for the most challenging test of her life.

“I already know what you’re thinking and it’s not going to happen,” Chat retracts his baton as he lands beside her, twirling it between his fingers, “You’re going straight to bed.”

“I need to study,” she insists halfheartedly as she opens the hatch to her bedroom, trying to avoid his gaze. He looks beautiful tonight and she slips inside and detransforms just to get away from him, the temptation to touch almost too much to swallow. Chat follows her in and lands in a crouch beside her chaise, considering her carefully as she shucks her cardigan from her shoulders and drapes it across her office chair, stretching her arms above her head in an attempt to chase away the growing tension at the base of her spine. 

“Do you mind if I stay?” he asks, keeping his eyes trained on her bare arms as she tilts her chin up and yawns. She hesitates for a moment before finally conceding and collapses onto her office chair, hunching over her open binder. She rests her chin in her palm, flipping idly through the pages, and Chat slowly begins his journey towards her, creeping silently across the floor.

“I know what you’re doing and it won’t work,” she grumbles a few minutes later as Chat presses his thumbs into the hard knots in her shoulders, grazing his claws along the juncture of her neck. 

“I just wanted to thank you,” he says, his lips only millimetres from the shell of her ear, his breath ghosting against her cheek, “I know you didn’t want to take time away from studying.”

“It was no big deal,” she responds, sinking into his touch despite herself. He begins to knead the muscles beneath the ridge of her shoulder blades, his focus solely on her, “I actually kind of liked it. It was fun seeing you in your element.”

“It wouldn’t have been Christmas without you there,” he presses a kiss to her temple and Marinette shudders, relaxing into his touch.

“Mmm…” she trails off, letting her head fall forward against her desk. Chat takes advantage of the additional real estate and works away at the knots along her upper back with gentle and even pressure, careful to keep his ministrations from being too intense. She moans out loud as he tackles a particularly stubborn spot at the base of her skull and she completely surrenders to him, a victim to the breath on her neck and the press of his fingers against her skin.

She takes her lower lip between her teeth as he soothes his fingers along her spine, kneading her muscles through the thin fabric of her shirt until her breaths fall into a steady rhythm. She groans as he dips lower and Chat takes the opportunity to press a kiss to the exposed column of skin, trailing his lips down along each vertebrae until he can go no further, interrupted by the hem of her shirt.

“Oh, just take it off,” she grumbles and Chat grins victoriously, helping her out of her camisole. She sighs as she gets up out of her office chair and offers him her hand in resignation, “You win.”

Chat narrows his eyes playfully, “Just like that? You're not secretly planning to fight me on this?”

Marinette heaves another sigh, “Just ravish me already.”

“This is too easy,” Chat murmurs suspiciously, but he's not complaining. Whisking her up into his arms, Chat leaps up onto the upper platform and lays her down on the mattress, crawling between her legs and divesting her of her jeans and panties all in one go. She flops back against the pillow and watches him work, his tongue peeking out between his lips, and all of the pent up sexual frustration that's been building inside her since the Christmas hospital visit crescendos to a fever pitch.

Dropping onto his abdomen, Chat takes a thigh in each hand and spreads her apart, grazing his teeth along the pale expanse of her inner thigh. Marinette arches off the mattress as he inches closer to her centre, his tongue teasing faint patterns against her skin, and if she was wet before, she's certain she must be gushing now.

He says as much as he finally spreads her open with his fingers and Marinette garbles nonsense into the back of her palm, moaning as he takes her clit between his lips and sucks. It feels amazing after so long and Marinette quickly realises how badly she needed this, the realisation that she's got a bit of a “charitable Chat” kink knocking her for a loop as he dips his tongue between her folds. I mean, she’d always been a bit impressed that he spent so much of his free time following his philanthropic pursuits but why was it suddenly turning her to putty in his hands? Why did he have such an effect on her?

She jolts back to reality as he grazes his teeth against her clit and she throws her head back at the sensation, groaning into her hand as he soothes the sting with a sweep of his tongue. Bucking her hips instinctively, he reaches forward to steady them, pressing the tips of his claws into her skin just enough to serve as a gentle warning. She hisses and bends her knees, her toes curling with need as he focuses his attention on that one spot that drives her practically senseless and she grabs onto her pillow, desperately trying to hold on.

He knows her better than she knows herself sometimes and he increases his pace, smirking as she promptly loses track of her rhythm. She thinks about his smile, his voice as he sings, his fingers as he plays Christmas carols on his keyboard. She thinks about his gentle nature, his innate gift with children, his ability to make them laugh and forget about their problems and suddenly it’s not a ‘charitable Chat’ kink but a ‘dad Chat’ kink and  _ holy shit _ that’s not something she thought she had a thing for but there it is, and she’s coming, arching her back as she loses control of her hips and grinds up against him, gasping his name. 

Her toes are still tingling when she opens her eyes to the sight of him wiping his lips against the leather cuff of his suit, his green eyes almost glowing with hunger. He crawls up her body and pecks her on the lips, pulling back only to grace her with one of his signature smirks, “I love it when you think out loud.”

The ground drops out from under Marinette’s body as the implications of his words slam into her with the force of a cannon ball, “W-what?”

“You heard me,” he swoops back down and takes her earlobe between his teeth, his tongue tracing her Miraculous, “You say the most interesting things when I go down on you.”

“Anything I say when you’re...doing...you know,” Marinette wills her brain to catch up with her lips, “You...I...just ignore it, alright?”

“How could I possibly ignore  _ that _ ?” he breathes into her ear before pulling back and settling on his knees above her, “But then again, you  _ do _ have a test tomorrow.”

Marinette gapes as he reaches up to open the trapdoor above their heads, pushing the door open with a jaunty wave. He hops out onto her balcony as she struggles to salvage her dignity and gasps as he pops his head in one last time to blow her a kiss.

“Good luck on your test!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did Marinette say? I'll let you decide ;)
> 
> Leave me a comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> ~Bronte


	16. Family (Adrinette)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 16: Family

“He never changes.” Adrien said bitterly.

Marinette said nothing. There was nothing to say - there were no words that would really justify Gabriel’s attitudes or behaviors. No words of comfort she could say that hadn’t been said before. 

“He even put us in my old bedroom.” Adrien looked around the room with a resigned sigh. 

“It is kind of a blast from the past.” Marinette chuckled. “I don’t think anything has actually changed.”

Adrien looked around the room - still decorated to suit a fifteen-year-old boy, rather than a 27-year-old man. The foosball table, arcade games, shelves with trophies...the skate ramp and rock wall. Everything remained the same as when he had moved out almost a decade ago.

“This doesn’t even make sense.” He said, shaking his head. “This room is perfectly suited to be a studio or an office: honestly, looking at it now, I don’t know why it was even a bedroom. So, why hasn’t he done it?”

“True.” Marinette pursed her lips and considered the wide-open space, the two-story wall of windows and the upstairs balcony. “This really would make a wonderful studio… How did you even sleep in here with all the windows? How did you change?”

“Well, the closet does have a dressing area.” Adrien replied. “But the windows are mirrored on the outside, so you can’t really see in. And they have a tinting technology built in - you can adjust it with a remote that’s around here somewhere. Mostly though, I just used to sleeping mask.”

Marinette clucked her tongue. “Man, rich kid problems.”

“The struggle is real.” Adrien said dryly. “Honestly...I’d rather be in your room. Or better yet, home. Next year, your parents can come to London, right?”

“It’s something to talk about.” Marinette nodded, thinking of their cozy little brownstone with it’s tiny little garden and lived-in feel. “But for now...how long until we have to appear downstairs?”

“It’s...one p.m. now.” Adrien glanced at his watch. “Father won’t even appear until five or so, and the dinner party isn’t set to start until half past seven.”

“Wonderful.” Marinette grinned. “Well, we’ve already had lunch with your Father, so that’s one social obligation filled. And since the maid has already helpfully put away everything for our, you know, two-day visit, we needn’t worry about unpacking and pressing clothing.”

“True.” Adrien looked at her appraisingly. “Why, what do you have in mind? Want to go find Alya and Nino for a while?”

“No,” Marinette smiled, winding her arms around her husband’s neck. “I want to take advantage of four entire hours where nobody expects us to visit or will likely come barging in if we’re gone too long.”

“Really…” Adrien wrapped his hands around her wait. “What do you have in mind, Mrs. Agreste?”

“Well, Mr. Agreste,” Marinette smiled, “I happen to know that, in your Father’s typical over-the-top style, that grandiose room you call the bathroom has an equally grandiose and over-the-top jacuzzi tub. You know, the one that could fit us and five of our closest friends?”

“I do know the one you’re talking about.” Adrien murmured appreciatively. “I used to swim in it when I was little.”

“Mmhmm, It’s practically a Roman bath.” Marinette hummed. “Really, it’s far too large for one person.”

“Want some company, my Lady?” Adrien grinned.

“Absolutely.”

 

“We may need to get one of these.” Adrien groaned, shuddering as Marinette’s hand gripped him under the water. The jets were going, pulsing against his back and circulating warm water in sensation that was completely different to anything he’d previously experienced. Currents and eddies were keenly felt in concert with his wife’s firm pressure as her hand worked against him.

“Where would we put it?” Marinette asked, grinning as she straddled his hips. Warm water shifted against her skin as Adrien massaged her breasts. Rising up on her knees, she shivered as the cool air hit her, nipples hardening as gooseflesh broke out across her skin.

“I don’t know.” Adrien leaned up to kiss her as she sank down on him. “Our bedroom?”

“Then where would we put our bed?” Marinette giggled, pressing kisses along his jaw before taking his earlobe in between her teeth. 

“We could sleep in the living room.” Adrien grinned against her shoulder as he thrust up into her. “Just put our bed in there. Start a new trend.”  
“You’re ridiculous.” Marinette laughed, sighing happily when he leaned forward, taking her breast in his mouth and sucking lightly.

“You love me.” Adrien mumbled, his hands dropping to her hips to help guide her movements.

“I do.” Marinette agreed, winding soapy arms around his neck as she ground against him. “More than anything.”

“I’m very lucky.” Adrien’s head tilted back against the edge of the tub, eyes closing as he breath hitched. He smiled when Marinette leaned over him, wet breasts pressing against his chest as she nibbled along his exposed neck and shoulders.

“You deserve it, chaton.” She whispered, clenching around him, gratified to feel his fingers digging into her hips as the water swirled around them.

“Lucky enough to put one of these in our bedroom and move our bed to the living room?” He teased, running his hands up her sides as he pulled her closer. The water sloshed around them as their pace increased.

“Maybe not _that_ lucky.” Marinette said wryly, pressing her damp temple against his, breath loud in his ear as she rode him. She crested, bearing down, grinding against her husband as she clenched around him. Adrien wasn’t far behind her, holding her down as he pressed up into her, eyes closed as he sighed through his own release.

They relaxed in the shared bath, jets still massaging along their bodies as they caught their breath and grinned at each other.

“I guess you’re right,” he said, “a giant-ass jacuzzi tub wouldn’t really fit in our house.”

“Yeah, well, we still have one here.” Marinette pointed out. “Maybe visiting your father won’t be so bad, after all.”


	17. Christmas Songs (Adrinette)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 17: Christmas Songs by Bronte  
> Pairing: Adrinette
> 
> A little shower sex for you.
> 
> Enjoy sinners!

      17. Christmas Music

“I really can't stay _ — _ baby it's cold outside...I've got to go away _ — _ baby it's cold outside...this evening has be _ — _ hoping that you'd drop _ —s _ o very nice _ — _ I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice…”

Marinette groans and bangs her head on the door of the refrigerator, wiling her blood pressure down with her mind. She swears to  _ god _ she’ll kill him eventually, and the newspapers will read something along the lines of ‘Woman, Enraged by Fiancé’s Shower Duets with Himself, Kills Him in Cold Blood.'

She heaves a sigh and looks up at the ceiling imploringly; it had been fine when it was ‘ _ L'as-tu vu ?’ _ and ‘ _ Vive le vent’ _ but this? Singing a duet with yourself? Seriously?

Marinette considers all the ways she could shut him up and settles on the obvious solution. 

_ Time to make him sing a different tune. _

Shucking her clothes uncermoniously across the floor, Marinette is suddenly wearing nothing but the determined glare of a woman on a mission and marches into the bathroom, his caterwauling masking the distinctive thud of the door slamming open. She grabs a hair clip from the vanity and stomps into the walk-in shower, piling her hair atop her head and fastening it there in preparation for what she has to do to get him to just  _ shut up _ already and give her the peace and quiet she deserves.

“ _ You _ .”

Adrien spins around and nearly jumps out of his skin at the sight of her, glowering behind her outstretched index finger, gloriously and utterly naked. The threat in her voice is terrifying and f _ uck  _ if it doesn’t send all the wrong messages to his dick, the traitorous organ hardening to half mast in an instant.

“You need to stop,” she threatens, closing the space between them in two fearsome strides, “You’re driving me insane.”

Adrien skitters backwards until his back is pressed against the cool tile in the corner of the stall, “What _ — _ what did I do this time?”

She growls and grasps him by the cock, pumping him to attention, “It’s Sunday morning. My day off, and you won’t shut up.”

Adrien gulps as she squeezes her fingers around him, the glorious pressure a direct contradiction to the promise of death in her eyes, “But _ — _ ”

She drops to her knees like a stone and takes his cock in her mouth all at once, engulfing him in one smooth motion that nearly makes him collapse right then and there. He braces himself against the tile and tries to make sense of the world as her hand tightens around the base of his length, her pace fast and relentless and  _ god _ , the feel of her lips around him would feel amazing if it weren’t for the fact that she was planning on murdering him and he looks down, looks down and sees that she’s staring right back, daring him to open his mouth and speak.

“I’m...I’m, fuck,” he curses, pleasure coiling in his abdomen. Marinette takes him as far into her mouth as she can go and Adrien’s eyes nearly roll to the back of his head and _ — _

_ What? _

The pressure and the pleasure is gone and suddenly Marinette is standing at chest level again, her crossed arms propping her breasts up in a way that makes him weak at the knees. He tries to open his mouth but that damn index finger of hers is up in an instant, wagging in his face and halting his tongue in favour of living to see another day.

“Promise me you’ll stop singing and I’ll finish what I started.”

Adrien opens his mouth and hesitates at the last second, “Wait, stop singing? Like right now? Or forever?”

“Right now,” Marinette narrows her glare, “Because if I hear you sing ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ with yourself one more time, I’ll divorce you.”

“We’re not even married yet,” he whines, reaching down to grasp his aching cock and stopping at the last second, scratching his thigh instead.

“Fine,” she harrumphs, “I’ll stop doing the laundry.”

“I do my own laundry, thank you very much.”

“I’ll stop making dinner.”

“UberEats is a lifesaver.”

Marinette’s face darkens, “I will never have sex with you again.”

“As if,” Adrien mirrors her posture and crosses his arms as well, “You wouldn’t last week.”

Marinette’s eyes widen, “Is that a challenge?”

Adrien realises his mistake and starts backpedalling, reaching out to grab her shoulders, “No, no that was not, that was not a challenge, that was _ —” _

“Oh, I will so Lysistrata your ass. No sex! No sex ever again!” she points her finger so far into his face it nearly goes up his nose, “You do not challenge me and get away with it!”

Adrien regrets everything and wonders what sort of mistakes he made in his past lives to deserve this, “Please Marinette, I’m sorry, I’ll never sing it again, just please don’t torture me or go on a sex strike or do whatever you plan on doing to me, please _ —” _

“Nope, nope, you made your bed,” she turns away, striding out of the shower and Adrien panics, grabbing her by the waist to stop her exit, “HEY!”

“I love you, I’m sorry, I love you, I love you!” he says, wrapping his arms around her body and holding her up so she floats just above the floor. Marinette wriggles in vain for a few moments before finally giving up, falling limp in his arms, “What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Stop singing ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’.”

“Right,” Adrien releases her, gently placing her back on the ground. Marinette spins around and plants her hands on her hips, her breasts jutting proudly in front of her.

“Is that a promise?” she says, raising a brow. Adrien drags his eyes back from where they’d paused to admire the way the water is dripping down her chest, “Say yes and I’ll finish what I started.”

“God yes. Please yes.”

Marinette smiles victoriously and takes her former position on the floor of the shower, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock with every pass. Adrien groans in relief as she increases her rhythm and suddenly the tension at the base of his spine is all too much and he comes quickly, loudly with a choked gasp, white and bright and overwhelming.

When he finally opens his eyes, she’s standing back up in front of him with this devious grin on her face that speaks of the scary things that go on in her mind and Adrien just hopes he can hold on and keep up with her. He pulls her flush against him and kisses her, the salty taste of himself on her lips at odds with the sweet way she moves against his tongue. 

Marinette is the first to pull back, “Come on, let’s get out of the shower before we run out of water.”

Ever the opportunist, Adrien seizes the moment and takes it.

“But baby, it’s cold out there!”

“ _ ADRIEN!!! _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless, those two.
> 
> Leave a comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> ~Bronte


	18. Warm (Adrinette)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just worked 30 of the last 48 hours. Am I actually still alive? You tell me. 
> 
> That being the case, I apologize for the brevity of this chapter (it’s still hot...right?)

     18: Warm

Sunlight is streaming through the windows and Marinette wakes up gradually, snuggling back into the comfort of her pillow. She takes a deep breath and relaxes into his touch as he crowds her space from behind, nuzzling her hair and humming tunelessly, warm and pliant and utterly content. It’s a Sunday morning and neither have anywhere in particular they have to be, which is a rarity unto itself most weekends; it had taken a coordinated effort on both their parts to get the downtime they so clearly deserved, especially this close to the holidays.

So it’s no surprise that he’s leading a trail of lazy kisses down her neck and along the curve of her shoulder, his pelvis pressing against her. He’s hard already, which isn’t exactly a rarity these days now that they finally share a bed in the actual sense, but they hadn’t had a lot of time to actually indulge since they’d moved into their apartment in Trocadero, too busy with courses and jobs and saving Paris. 

Today would be different.

“Good morning,” she murmurs, responding to his slow-moving fingers as they trail across her abdomen. His entire body is flush against her, hot and willing and eager and there are few things better than that, she thinks, shifting the angle of her hips. He purrs in response, sucking her earlobe gently into his mouth and scraping his teeth across her Miraculous, palming her breasts and pushing his pelvis up against her. 

“Mmm…” Marinette trails off as they begin to fall into a lazy rhythm, meeting him stroke for stroke as she grinds herself against his cock. He curls his arm around her for leverage and increases the pressure between them, trailing his hand down her abdomen  towards her curls, cupping her centre and dragging his fingertips along her slit. She hisses as he slips two inside her and starts pumping them in and out, and he burrows his forehead in the crook of her neck as she shifts her hips backwards, spreading her thighs just for him.

He delights as she shivers in anticipation and he draws his fingers away, brushing them up her arms and along the planes of her neck and spine. He takes a moment at the hollow of her throat before skirting back down to her opening, pressing his lips to the sensitive spot just below her ear and breaching her again.

“Please,” she gasps, her voice breathy and yearning and she reaches down to stroke between her legs, pressing the pad of her finger against her clit. Watching her get herself off has always been one of his many favourite pastimes and he thrusts into her in one smooth stroke, grabbing her breast and drawing her back towards him. His eyes roll to the back of his head as she plucks his hand from her chest and slides his thumb into her mouth, sucking the tip in between her teeth and  _ god,  _ the combination of the two sensations have him seeing stars already, stumbling closer to the edge of orgasm.

She increases the pace of her fingers between her thighs and he picks up his pace to match, his breath coming in haggard gasps as he brings his hand down to join hers, pleasuring her with a well-timed flick of his wrist. She moans, sharp and heavy, and tosses her head back at the heightened sensation, arching against him in a cry that sends him reeling, her walls contracting around his cock. She’s coming and he’s closing his eyes, awash to the sensation, wet and tight and  _ fuck _ , he’s biting down on her shoulder, sucking the skin hard enough to leave a mark for everyone to see come Monday morning and he keeps thrusting, his breath shuddering, pliant and hot and he’s coming apart inside of her, his thoughts shattering, his mind blanking, his sight blinding.

He collapses back into the mattress and closes his eyes, his body boneless and gasping for breath. He shifts and Marinette mewls as he slips out of her, atoning by hugging her close and pressing kisses to the plum sized bruise he’d left on her skin. There’s no need for words as she settles back against him, sliding her legs together just to keep the feeling going, slick and wet with their shared efforts, and together, they fall blissfully back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> (Speaking of which, I only ever seem to hear from the same ten glorious, kind and generous readers. Where you at sinners?)
> 
> See you on the 22nd, where we will see the return of dom!Adrien.
> 
> ~Bronte


	19. Fake Beau (Adrinette)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 19: Fake Boy/Girlfriend for Family Dinner  
> Post-reveal Adrienette. 
> 
> Three hours of sleep and five cups of coffee did not equip Marinette to deal with her catty aunt. Now she's in a bind, and needs Adrien to help her out...

“I love you, Kitty.”

Chat turned around to regard a nervous-looking Ladybug, eyebrow raised in amusement. His partner had been off during their patrol, but Adrien had learned over the years that if Marinette was worrying over something, it was best to just wait until she was ready to talk about it. (No matter what Alya said about rambling post-apocalyptic scenarios.) 

“What do you want?” He asked teasingly, patting the ledge next to him.

“What, I can’t tell my favorite cat how much I love him?” Ladybug dropped down beside him, batting her eyes at him exaggeratedly. 

“Those kitten eyes quit working years ago.” Chat grinned at her, ignoring the quick twist in his chest that called him a liar.

“Rats.” Ladybug mumbled, before taking a breath. “So...I opened my big, fat mouth the other day.”

“Uh-huh,” Chat grinned, and Ladybug flushed.

“Shut _uppp.”_ She whined, tugging at hr pigtails, puffing out her cheeks in exasperation. “Ok, so last night I was up with Tommy, because he’s teething, and he’d just been _so fussy._ Oh! Did I tell you? He’s on his hands and knees, trying to figure out how to crawl! It was just the sweetest thing - I’ve got a video of it!”

“Yes Mari, you have told me that Tommy is trying to crawl. Twice. And we all saw the video at lunch on Tuesday.” Chat’s tone was teasing, taking the sting out of the words. “Not that I don’t love to hear how your son is doing, but…”

“He’s not my son.” Ladybug groused. “Seriously, you have to stop saying that - somebody is going to believe you one of these days, and I’ll _never_ get a date.”

“Right.” Chat nodded. “So, as you were saying, your son was teething…”

Laughing, he dodged Ladybug’s playful swat. “I don’t know why you deny it! You parent that boy _at least_ as much as your mom does!”

Tomas, affectionately called “Tommy”, was Marinette’s baby brother. Now six months old, he’d been a shock to a surprised Tom and Sabine, and Marinette, who had been in her first year of University and was contemplating moving out. However, she had stuck around to help out during her mother’s pregnancy, and had wound up _staying_ to help after her little brother was born.

Nobody had been as surprised as Marinette at how much she enjoyed being a big sister. Being an only child, her only _real_ experience with children had been sporadic babysitting jobs as a teenager, which had been more for pocket money and less because she liked children. But her parents had been older, and as she privately told him after patrol on night, just not as _able_ to deal with the stresses of an infant as they had been when she was born. 

During her pregnancy, Sabine had been often tired and worn out, spending the last few weeks of her pregnancy on bed rest. And once Tommy was born, both Sabine and Tom confessed to feeling a lot more worn and a lot less able to deal with the late nights, interrupted sleep and early mornings than they had been when Marinette was small. They were fortunately in a safe enough place, financially, to place Tommy in care during the day, but there were still long nights and early baker’s mornings to contend with.

As much as they teased Marinette about being Tommy’s mother, Chat knew she had the lighter end of the load, for all that it was shouldered willingly. Generally speaking, if Marinette didn’t have patrol that night, or class the following morning, she took over Tommy’s care during the nighttime to allow her parents more sleep. Realistically, this equated out to taking night duty every third day or so, but Adrien knew her parents were grateful for the help. And as Tommy got older and slept for longer periods, it had become easier. 

But teething, as Marinette had lamented more than once (usually over copious amounts of espresso), threw all of that straight out the window.

“I’m surprised he’s not out here with you in a baby carrier.” Chat teased, blanching when a considering expression passed over her face. “LB! No! You _cannot_ take your baby brother swinging through the streets of Paris.”

“Aw, why not?” Ladybug grinned. “You don’t think he would enjoy the wind whistling in his ears? And he loves his little swing, so…”

Chat squinted at her speculatively. “You are _not_ serious.”

“Well, no, I’m not.” Ladybug admitted. “But I was thinking that walking the living room is getting old, so maybe just taking him up and down the road might help. Or at least be different.”

“It might.” Chat allowed. “But none of this is telling me what happened that you need my help.”

“Who said I needed your help?” Ladybug asked, but began worrying the corner of her lip.

“Ladybug. _Marinette.”_ Chat said flatly. “I’ve known you for how long?”

“Since we were fourteen.” Ladybug sighed. “Right. Well, like I was saying, Tommy was super fussy last night, and with the mid-terms before winter break I haven’t been getting much sleep.”

Chat nodded. Their entire group had been rather stressed out, between work obligations and school obligations. Despite Hawkmoth being gone, Alya still kept up the Ladyblog, and Nino was gaining popularity as a DJ and was working part-time at a local radio station in addition to studying music production. Adrien was still working for his father’s company, but his obligations were pared back to allow for an increased University workload as he studied business administration.

“So...do you remember my Aunt Celine?” Ladybug continued.

“Kind of.” Chat’s brow furrowed. “Dad’s sister?”

“His eldest one.” Marinette nodded. Her father’s side of the family was massive, and over the years Adrien had met various aunts, uncles, cousins. “Anyway, we were having lunch with her, and I was running on like, three hours of sleep and five cups of coffee.”

Chat nodded, waiting to see where this story was going. His Bug was downright _grumpy_ when she was sleepy, so he had a fairly good idea, but he wasn’t sure how _he_ factored into things. 

“Well, Aunt Celine was going _on_ and _on_ about my cousin Bridgette, and how she married this richy-rich pants and she’s living this _amazing_ life and she’s _so_ successful and _so_ beautiful, and…” Ladybug trailed off, holding up her hand next to her head and miming the _blah blah blah_ motion as she rolled her eyes expressively.

“Well then she started making these little pithy _remarks,_ you know, the ones that are insulting, but you can’t really call them out on it because the words aren’t technically insulting?”

Adrien rolled his eyes and grimaced. He knew exactly the kinds of remarks she was talking about - backhanded compliments and innuendoes were an unfortunate part of his upbringing and continuing career as a model.

“Yeah.” Ladybug huffed out a breath, cheeks puffing out and bangs fluttering. “So, she’s making these snide little comments about how it’s _so difficult_ dealing with an infant at mom’s age, and how she’s _so lucky_ to have me around, and I’m _so selfless_ for giving up my young life to help my parents. _Then_ she’s saying something about how people must confuse _me_ for Tommy’s mother, and she’s fretting that nobody will look at me twice when I’m toting a baby around and I’ll never find somebody as _wonderful_ as Felix, and…”

She trailed off with a groan, and Chat could see her cheeks flush even as she leaned over and buried her face against his bicep. “There, there,” He said patiently, patting her dark head consolingly, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“You say that now.” She mumbled against his arm. “Wait until you hear what I popped off with.”

“It must be good, if you’re this embarrassed.” Chat agreed, trying not to smile. 

“Oh, it was.” Marinette righted herself with a sigh. “So I opened my _big, fat mouth_ and said ‘I don’t know what you mean, Auntie. My boyfriend has no problems with me helping my parents with my brother.’”

Oh. Chat pressed his lips together and swallowed a laugh. Laughing would get him hit. Laughing might get him killed - or at the very least chased around the arrondissement a few times.

“LB,” he reminded her gently, “you don’t _have_ a boyfriend.”

“I _know!”_ Marinette wailed, tugging her pigtails as her head flopped back. “Stupid mouth. Stupid school. Stupid no sleep.”

“Well, no big deal.” Chat patted her back consolingly. “Just pretend to have a boyfriend for a bit, then you can pretend to break up with him. No problem.”

Ladybug looked down and mumbled something at her feet.

“What?” Chat leaned over, cat ears twitching. “I didn’t catch that.”

“I said ‘the Christmas party is next weekend.’” Ladybug groaned. “Felix’s family is hosting this big, swanky party at Chloe’s dad’s hotel, and Aunt Celine was just _gushing_ about how I could bring my beau to the party to meet the rest of the family…”

“Oh.” Chat puffed out a breath. “Yeah, I could see how that could be a problem.”

He glanced down to see Ladybug - no, _Marinette_ \- looking up at him shyly through her lashes as she worried her lower lip between her teeth. Chat blinked down at her, uncomprehending.

“So, Chat.” Ladybug licked her lips nervously. “I mean, Adrien.”

 _Oh._ Chat’s heart did a little flip and stutter in his chest as he realized where this was leading. _Oh._

“...Would you be my boyfriend for a night?”

 

Being Marinette’s pretend boyfriend was simultaneously exhilarating and depressing. Exhilarating, because Adrien was exactly where he’d wanted to be for years now. Depressing, because it was all fake.

Marinette’s parents knew it was just for show, but had only rolled their eyes and agreed to play along with the charade. He and Marinette, of course, also knew that it was just for show. But to the other 100-plus party-goers, they must have looked like the perfect couple. It helped that Marinette was used to dealing with the press and other high-ranking officials, even though it was under a different guise. Adrien had been rubbing elbows with society’s elite since he was small, and his parents had never tolerated anything less than perfect manners.

So Adrien dressed to impress, met Marinette at the door, and escorted her inside behind her parents. They checked their coats, mingled, made small talk and sipped champagne. Marinette really _hadn’t_ been joking about the party. The Desvignes family didn’t skimp on the details, and Adrien recognized several attendees as as city officials or other prominent businessmen - a few of whom had already recognized _him_ and had come over to make small talk. Usually this involved inquiring if his father was also in attendance, or if he was here representing him.

“No, not tonight.” Adrien replied pleasantly, with Marinette’s hand linked through his elbow. “Tonight I’m here for pleasure, not business reasons.”

“I don’t think this is just a family Christmas party, sweetheart.” Adrien said lowly, smiling pleasantly as he handed her a champagne flute. (Desvignes brand, of course.) They had just excused themselves from the third such conversation, and were (trying) to make their way to the table that Tom and Sabine had secured. 

“I think you’re right.” Marinette muttered back. “My family is looking a little...overwhelmed.”

They were. Though her family and extended family only made up roughly a quarter of the guests, they were easy to spot. Their clothes weren’t as fitted, and some outfits were dated. Their hair wasn’t as neat, and their shoes weren’t as shiny. Most of them looked uneasy. Four years ago, Marinette absolutely would have been among them; only her experience as a superhero had given her the edge she needed to look comfortable (or at least unconcerned) about interacting with the crème de la crème of Paris.

“Yeah.” Adrien frowned, before quickly smoothing out the expression. “They don’t look very happy, do they?”

“I don’t think they knew they were coming to a business party.” Marinette replied sourly. “I mean, _I_ certainly thought it was supposed to be a family gathering.”

“When you’re that high up the food chain, your business associates practically _are_ your family.” Adrien said. “You certainly see them more than your family.”

“Oh, Adrien.” Marinette turned sympathetic eyes on him. “I’m so sorry.”

“No need.” Adrien forced himself to say lightly, before smiling genuinely at her. “I found other people to call family.”

Marinette beamed, stepping closer to him and wrapping her arm around his waist. Adrien couldn’t help but return the smile, sliding an arm around her shoulders to draw her in, unable to resist pressing his nose to her hair.

Adrien knew that Marinette was thinking he considered his friends a family of sorts, and she wasn’t wrong. Nino was his best friend and ally, Alya and Chloe were like sisters to him. He loved them dearly. But Marinette… 

Her family had essentially taken him in. Included him to the point that he found himself occasionally doing housework or helping in the kitchen. Sabine would speak to him in Chinese while she taught him how to prepare basic meals, or he helped her with more complicated ones. Tom taught him how to knead bread, and ice cupcakes. He helped Marinette with chores, even if that meant learning how to work a vacuum while she folded laundry or washed dishes. They called him ‘son.’ 

He had never felt like Marinette’s brother. 

When they’d revealed themselves to each other, when he’d learned that his beloved Lady was also his good friend, he’d been excited. Ladybug had always held him at arm’s length, but he’d hoped that since they had an established relationship outside of their superhero personas, maybe they could be _more._ But he had hesitated, scaling back the flirting as Chat Noir, waiting for an indication that Marinette would be receptive to his advances.

She wasn’t. Sure, her stuttering and awkwardness around him disappeared, virtually overnight, as she adjusted to their new dynamic. But outside of a few sidelong glances he couldn’t decipher, and post-battle hugs that lasted just a little longer than necessary, he’d never gotten the feeling that she wanted to be more than his friend. Sure, they’d become closer - best of friends, really, not that he’d ever tell Nino that. 

Adrien wasn’t willing to jeopardize their friendship, their _partnership,_ to push her into a romantic relationship, where his feelings may or may not eventually be reciprocated. She meant too much to him. So even if his Lady would always hold a piece of his heart, he would take the friendship, the warmth and family and caring she offered, and be grateful for it.

“Oh God,” Marinette muttered, startling him out of his musings. “Here comes my Aunt. Quick, give me a drink.”

She raised her champagne flute to her lips, tossing the remaining contents back before seamlessly stepping away from him to set it on a passing waiter’s tray and grab another. 

“Is she that bad?” Adrien murmured bemusedly. 

“Worse.” Marinette raised the glass to her lips.

“Well, in that case,” Adrien took a healthy swig of his own drink, “bring her on.”

Marinette shot him a grateful look, just as the dreaded Aunt Celine came into earshot.

“Mari, honey!” Celine fluttered, “You made it! I wasn’t sure you would be able to.”

“Of course, Auntie.” Marinette smiled through gritted teeth. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“It _is_ a wonderful soiree, isn’t it?” Celine cooed. “Daniel knows how to throw the _best_ parties.”

Ah, he recognized her type, Adrien thought. A small fish in a big pond, latching onto whoever was as close to the top of the food chain as she could get, and lording her perceived superiority over those she considered beneath her.

Marinette had never tolerated that well, he thought, recalling some of the truly spectacular fights she’d had with Chloe when they were younger. Of course, Chloe had known exactly which buttons to push to work Marinette up to a froth in two minutes or less - this woman didn’t seem quite so skilled. Still, it was a wonder that Marinette hadn’t lost it with her.

Adrien sipped his champagne, wondering if he’d get to see Marinette punch her Aunt tonight. She’d already had a few glasses, so the odds were climbing.

“And _this_ must be your date.” Celine turned sharp eyes on Adrien. He let her look, knowing that she was taking in his tailored suit, fresh off Gabriel’s fall line, his manicured hands, and the Cartier watch that gleamed casually on his wrist. The suit was designed to showcase his broad shoulders, narrow hips, and long legs, and it did its job well. His tie was subtly textured, and the gemstone in the tie pin matched the cufflinks the winked on his wrists.

As her gaze blatantly raked over him, Marinette stiffened next to him. He didn’t even need to look to know that her brows were lowering dangerously and her face was twisting up into an affronted moue. Casually, he reached out, taking her hand in his and rubbing soothing circles over the back of it with his thumb.

As her gaze worked back up towards his face, Adrien dropped Marinette’s hand, reaching out to shake her Aunt’s hand.

“Yes, I am.” He smiled at her charmingly. “My name is Adrien.”

“Adrien _Agreste?”_ She asked with a raised eyebrow as her hand reached out automatically to shake his. “Surely you’re not related to _Gabriel Agreste?”_

“My father.” Adrien replied. 

“Daniel mentioned that he had invited him, but he was unable to attend.” Celine mused. “Are you here to represent him?”

“Father is currently in Milan on business.” Adrien said, hand sliding to the side to find Marinette’s already there waiting. “But no, I’m not here representing him; I’m here with Marinette as her plus one.”

“I’m quite surprised. Jean was telling Claude that Adrien Agreste was in attendance, but I thought surely you would be here for him.” Celine said, her gaze turning to Marinette as she smiled sweetly. “You’ve been holding out on us, Mari.”

“I’ve known Adrien since Collège, Aunt Celine.” Marinette said, fingers tightening around his in mounting ire. “You actually met him last year, when you came by the bakery to visit Papa.”

Celine blinked. “That boy working the front - that was you?” She asked bluntly.

“Possibly.” Adrien shrugged. “I’ve helped out around there before.”

Celine seemed gobsmacked for a moment, before her gaze narrowed speculatively.

“You mother had mentioned once that you had a crush on one of your classmates.” Celine mused aloud, still eying the man in front of her appraisingly. “This wouldn’t be him, would it?”

“O-oh, well, that was such a long time ago.” Marinette stammered, cheeks turning pink. “I had a couple of crushes in Collège, and Lycee! Ad- Adrien and I are...a fairly recent development. Nothing so far back as all that.”

Adrien blinked, but didn’t otherwise let his surprise show. Marinette was _stammering._ She hadn’t done that in...well, it had been a while. Beginning of Lycee, perhaps? Occasionally, when a reporter’s question had caught her off-guard, but as she grew used to media tactics, it had become more and more difficult to catch her flat-footed in such a way. 

Adrien sipped his champagne, deadly curious but unwilling to pursue the topic now. Later, after the party, when everything had settled back down and they had “broken up” he would grill her about her Collège crushes. She had dated one or two people casually in Lycee, but hadn’t had a boyfriend since entering University two years ago. Certainly he’d never known her to have _crushes._

“Oh, well, that’s such a _shame.”_ Her Aunt Celine said. “Your dear maman was telling me you were quite enamored with one boy.”

“Many of the boys in our class were infatuated with Marinette at some point.” Adrien said. “But I never saw her grace any boy in particular with her affections.”

“Oh. No?” Celine deflated a little. “Well, regardless, you’ve found a very handsome young man now! Have you introduced him to Grandma Gina? I haven’t seen her yet, but-”

“Mother!” A pretty young woman with dark hair and a large smile came up, a somber-looking blonde man trailing behind her. “There you are! Gustav is looking for you. He wanted to ask you about something.”

“Oh, Bridgette dear.” Celine turned, smiling at her daughter. “Of course, of course. I was just chatting with Mari and her boyfriend, Adrien Agreste.”

The blonde man stepped up next to Bridgette, winding an arm casually around her waist. Adrien recognized Felix Desvignes, heir to the Desvignes fortune. Though he was only a few years older than Adrien, they’d never interacted much. This then, Adrien concluded, must be the “richy-rich pants” that her cousin had married.

Celine departed, bustling off in a trail of skirts and perfume to go track down her next victim. Adrien bid her a polite farewell, glad to see the back of her, before he turned to regard their new companions.

Bridgette watched her mother go, smiling sweetly before turning back to Marinette and huffing out a breath. “Finally! I’m sorry, Marinette, we came over as soon as we saw she’d cornered you.”

“Thanks.” Marinette sighed in relief. “God, she was staring at Adrien like he was a piece of meat. She was about to say something rude, I swear.”

“I can imagine.” Bridgette said sympathetically, turning to Adrien. “Hello! I’m Bridgette Desvignes, Marinette’s cousin.”

“Oh! Where are my manners? I’m sorry.” Marinette apologized. “Adrien, this is my cousin Bridgette and her husband Felix.”

“A pleasure.” Adrien said, reaching out to exchange handshakes with the couple.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Felix replied. “I’m glad you could join us.”

“Again?” Marinette asked curiously. “You know each other.”

Adrien shrugged. “Rich kid club.” He said wryly.

Bridgette giggled behind her hand. “Oh, I like this one, Mari! Keep him. Come on, let’s go get something to drink!”

“Oh! Well, um,” Marinette didn’t have much time to protest as her cousin reached out, snagging her wrist and dragging her towards the bar. “I haven’t had anything to eat yet, and I wanted to go sit with Maman and-”

“Mother is at your parent’s table. Do you really want to go over there?” Bridgette’s lips quirked knowingly. 

Marinette blinked, turning to glance at her parents before huffing out a breath. “Not without tequila.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bridgette beamed, seemingly completely unoffended. “Come on then - they’ve got hors d'oeuvres around the bar too, so we’ll get you something to snack on.”

And just like that, Adrien was left standing with Felix, Marinette throwing him a glance over her shoulder as her cousin pulled her away.

“Hm.” Felix watched the girls leave with a fond expression and a small smile. “Well, let’s get them something to eat then, to cushion the alcohol.”

“Eat at the bar?” Adrien asked, raising a questioning eyebrow at the other man. 

“Sure.” Felix shrugged, apparently unconcerned with appearing impolite. “My father is hosting this party: what are they going to do, tell me no?”

Adrien swirled his champagne in the flute as he considered. Marinette and tequila were a hell of a combination - she would need something more than the little snacks they were circulating if she didn’t want to end up asleep in a corner somewhere.

“Fair point.” He conceded, finishing his glass and turning to face the other man. “Let’s go.”

 

Three hours later...or so, Marinette and Adrien were stumbling out of the ballroom, leaning on each other for support. 

“Oh my god, everything is tilting.” Marinette giggled. “Fuuuuuck...where’s the door?”

“Which one?” Adrien asked, blinking as his vision swam.

“Umm...I dunno. The outside one.” Marinette squinted. “I gotta get home.”

“Wha-? Why?” Adrien asked, concentrating on keeping his feet from tangling up with each other. 

“‘Cuz,” Marinette hiccuped. “It’s the place. You know, where I sleep. My bed is there.”

“Ohh…” Adrien hummed consideringly. “Yeah. You need one of those. Unless you want to sleep on the stairs?”

“Umm…” Marinette squinted at the main staircase. “Well, I mean, this one looks nice. Very soft. But they might get mad.”

“Yeah, probably.” Adrien nodded sagely. “And your aunt...where the heck is she?”

“Her?” Marinette glanced around the lobby. “Hell if I know. Hell, maybe?”

“You said ‘hell’ twice.” Adrien sniggered. 

“Stop…” Marinette whined. “You’re makin’ fun of me.”

“A little.” Adrien help up his thumb and forefinger an infinitesimal distance apart. “Jus’ like...this much.”

“You’re a mean boyfriend.” Marinette grumbled, flopping down on the nearby couch and toeing off her heels. “I’ma gonna divorce you.”

Adrien snorted as he sank down beside her. “You’re _drunk.”_

“So?” Marinette tipped her head back against the cushion. “You are too.”

“I’m not so dr...unk,” Adrien paused to try to remember what he was saying, “that I...uh…”

“...Yeah?” Marinette’s eyes didn’t even open as her eyebrow twitched. “Dunky.”

“You can’t divorce your boyfriend! Ha!” Adrien pointed at her. “That was it!”

“Shh. Calm _down,_ fake boyfriend.” Marinette’s hand patted at his arm. “It’s too late for this.”

“S’not late - it’s _early.”_ Adrien corrected. “Like...last call, bitches.”

“...did you just _swear?”_ Marinette’s head lolled to the side as her eyes cracked open to peer at him blearily. 

Adrien blinked, then sighed and tipped his head back against the couch as he slouched against the cushions. “Tequila made me do it.”

“S’was some top shelf stuff.” Marinette mumbled. “God, Bree can drink.”

“Felix was laughing at us.” Adrien grumbled. 

“Felix doesn’t laugh.” Marinette snorted. “He’s like...inculpable of it.”

“...in-what-able?” Adrien laughed.

“Shut _up.”_ Marinette whined. “You’re a mean fake boyfriend.”

“Keep saying that and your aunt will hear you.” Adrien replied. “Your story will be over.”

“She’s not even around.” Marinette replied, yawning as she started tilting on the couch. “‘Sides, I gotta keep saying it.”

“Why?” Adrien yawned, as her head flopped against his shoulder. He blinked as a thought occurred to him. “Oy.” He said, jiggling his shoulder. “Oy, ‘rinette.”

“Whaaattt…” Marinette frowned. “You’re a terrible pillow.”

“No. No, I’ve got an idea.” Adrien nudged her with an elbow until she opened her eyes to glare at him. “I’ve got a room here.” 

Marinette’s nose wrinkled. “Why? Like, with a bag and stuff?”

“Yeah.” Adrien nodded, trying to decide if his head bobbing was a fun feeling, or a sick feeling. “These stupid parties always go super late. I didn’t want to walk home. So I got a room earlier...like, before I met you.”

Marinette blinked. “Huh. S’nah bad idea.”

“Duh.” Adrien snorted. “You can sleep there.”

“Where you gonna sleep?” Marinette asked suspiciously. 

“There.” Adrien shrugged, jostling Marinette’s head. “It’s a big bed.”

“I don’t have pajamas.” Marinette frowned.

“I do.” Adrien replied. “You can wear my shirt. I’ll wear the pants.”

“Huh.” Marinette’s eyes remained closed, though her lips pursed while she considered it. “Ok… Do we have to leave here to get there?”

“What?” Adrien’s head rolled to the side as he stared at her. “No. We’re already at the hotel dummy.”

“No, I meant do we have to leave the couch to get- oh, ne’ermind.” Marinette huffed. “Joke’s not funny if you have to es’plain it.”

The two of them eventually hauled themselves off of the couch and located Marinette’s discarded shoes. Adrien wrapped his arm around her waist as they tottered towards the elevator. She leaned into him, and whether it was for balance or because she wanted to...he didn’t really care. She was leaning on him, and that was what mattered.

“Oi.” She poked his side as they waited for the elevator to arrive. “What room are you in?”

“Uhh…” Adrien reaching into his pocket and pulled out the key card. “Eleven twenty-five.” He announced, after squinting at the number written on the little paper sleeve.

The elevator dinged, door sliding open with quiet efficiency, and the duo tumbled inside, gripping the handrails as the machine lurched upwards. 

“My stomach hates this.” Marinette groaned.

“Well, if there’s no other stops, it’s only one more swoop.” Adrien mumbled, trying to settle the roiling in his own stomach.

“‘S eleven stories.” Marinette replied. “What’re the odds?”

“Pretty good, considering the time.” Adrien said. “It’s late...er, early. Somethin’. Are Bree and Felix staying here?”

“Dunno.” Marinette shrugged. “Maybe? They just kinda vanished.”

The swooping sensation of the elevator stopping, followed by another annoyingly cheerful ding, heralded their arrival. As the door slid open, Adrien grabbed Marinette’s elbow, since she hadn’t bothered to open her eyes, and tugged her gently to get her moving. 

“I’m comin’.” She mumbled, reaching up to grip his bicep as she padded down the hall next to him, strappy heels dangling from her free hand. 

It took a minute to get the card in the slot, and the small delay while the door read the code gave Adrien the unreasonable fear that maybe they were at the wrong room. However, the light blinked green, the lock disengaged, and Adrien breathed a sigh of relief when he turned the handle and the door swung open to reveal an empty room. Marinette wandered in ahead of him, carelessly dropping her heels under the coat rack near the door. 

“Nice digs.” She commented, peering around in the dim light afforded by the single lamp on the nightstand. 

“Chloe’s dad doesn’t skimp.” Adrien shrugged, slipping off his suit jacket and hanging it up. He toed off his shoes, kicking them next to Marinette’s and was in the process of loosening his tie when he turned.

Marinette was struggling with the zipper of her dress as she tried to tug in down between her shoulder blades. Her arms were twisted up behind her back, fingers fumbling with the tiny zipper. 

“Want some help?” He asked, leaving his tie dangling around his neck as he succeeded in unknotting it. 

“Please?” She asked, arms dropping to her side as her head dropped forward trustingly. Adrien stepped up behind her, tugging the zipper down to reveal a strip of smooth pale skin, broken only by the clasp of her bra. His cheeks burned as his fingers brushed against her spine, and he hastily backed up once the zip was undone. Stepping around her, he popped open his small overnight bag, pulling out his toiletry bag and rooting around for the outfit he had grabbed to sleep in. 

“Hey, M, do you want to use the bathroom fir…” Adrien trailed off as he turned around.

Marinette shook her foot, kicking her dress off to the side as she blinked up at him. “What?”

“Do- Do you-” Adrien’s tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth, in a way that had nothing to do with the amount of alcohol in his system. “Uh…”

The simple black strapless bra cupped her breasts lovingly, the dark color stark against her pale skin. Her underwear, he noted, didn’t match her bra. Red and lacey, with a pretty satin bow on the front, they looked more like her dress - though he didn’t think the dress came with panties. 

He wasn’t sure why he was staring. He _shouldn’t_ be staring - he’d seen plenty of other women in underwear, even if it was usually in a professional setting. Hell, he’d seen Marinette in a bikini last summer (though that had hit him like a punch to the gut, too), and this wasn’t any more revealing than that. But this was _underwear. Marinette’s_ underwear. Coupled with the situation, and Marinette ( _Ladybug_ ) standing before him nearly naked…

Every hormone-driven fantasy since he was fourteen had suddenly taken an alarming and abrupt left-turn into real life. All Adrien could do was gape like a landed fish as every bit of blood drained from his face and raced straight south. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to conceal what was going to become an _obvious_ problem very soon if he couldn’t stop staring at her breasts.

Marinette regarded him curiously. Thrusting her arm out, she made a grabby hand in his direction. “Adrien. Shirt?”

Dumbly, Adrien held it out. Marinette took it from him, dropping it over her head and shoving her arms in, gratified that it dropped down her hips far enough to not show her underwear off. Reaching up behind her, Marinette popped the clasp on her bra, tugging it out from beneath the shirt and tossing it towards her discarded dress with a happy sigh.

Adrien made a strangled noise, and Marinette turned to regard him. “...You gonna change?”

Adrien gaped some more, eyes darting around the room before he cleared his throat nervously. “Yeah. Totally. Just, uh...have to aspirin.” He said, thrusting his toiletry bag at her before he disappeared into the bathroom. 

Humming, Marinette went to the sink, setting the bag on the counter and flipping on the water to warm so she could wash her face. Rooting around in the bag, she pushed aside deodorant, razors and shampoo to pull out a bottle of painkillers. She grabbed one of the courtesy cups sitting on the counter, shoving it under the tap before popping the bottle lid and dumping a few aspirin into her hand.

She was in the process of scrubbing a finger across her gums when the door opened and Adrien appeared, clothing draped over his arm, wearing nothing but a pair of worn lounge pants. She paused, staring at his bare torso in the mirror, taking in the muscled chest and defined abs as she reminded herself to breath. 

He was a model. He was a model, and he was _paid_ to look this good. He was a model who was paid to look good, and a superhero whose activities kept him leanly muscled. He was a model and a superhero and her partner - who didn’t like her like that and was unfairly handsome _anyway._

Sure, he’d professed his love to Ladybug, but he was _friends_ with Marinette - as soon as they’d revealed themselves to each other, the flirting had scaled back to practically nil, even as the warm familiarity increased. Chat may have loved Ladybug, but Adrien only wanted to be friends with Marinette. 

And she could accept that. Really. Adrien _and_ Chat both meant too much to her to jeopardize their friendship with unwanted affection. Adrien did love her - even if it wasn’t quite the way she wanted him to. But Marinette could handle that, because she loved him too, and would take what she could get. 

That was what she told herself, anyway. And most days, it totally worked. They were partners, and they were best friends. A lost little boy had found a home with her family, and she didn’t want to do anything to make him feel uncomfortable. 

That didn’t mean her heart didn’t race as he ambled up next to her, grabbing the cup and aspirin bottle. Spitting into the sink, Marinette rinsed out her mouth, eyes raising in time to watch Adrien’s head tip back and his throat bob as he drank the water from the glass. Averting her gaze, Marinette tugged the bobby pins free of her hair, duping them on the counter and reaching for Adrien’s brush. 

“Feel better?” Adrien asked, watching Marinette drag his brush through her hair. Something about the scene struck him as oddly intimate, despite the mundane nature. Shaking himself, he asked, “Did you take some aspirin?”

“And drank a cup of water.” Marinette nodded. “Still drunk, but hopefully it won’t hurt later.”

“Okay.” Adrien nodded. “Ready for bed then?”

Marinette flushed, before averting her eyes. “I need to go to the bathroom first. You can tuck on in, though.”

“Alright.” Adrien nodded, setting the cup on the sink. “I’ll leave the lamp on until you get in, though.”

A few minutes later the mattress dipped, and Adrien turned out the light. Adrien lay in the dark, head muzzy with alcohol and Marinette’s proximity. He lay, staring into the darkness, waiting for his vision to adjust as he listened to her quiet breathing from the other side of the bed. Something niggled at his mind, and he frowned, trying to remember what it was. Something she said...earlier…

Maybe he would remember later. For now, he closed his eyes and tried _not_ to think about the woman across the bed, wearing nothing but his old shirt and a pair of lacy red panties.

 

Adrien smacked his lips, spitting out a mouthful of hair as he squinted into the darkness. His arm was numb and kind of weighed down, his mouth was drier than a desert, and he desperately wanted a drink. And some aspirin. Or tylenol. Or a lobotomy. 

Adrien wiggled his arm out from the weight holding it down, throwing off the blanket and shivering as the room’s cool air hit his bare chest. He recognized the hotel room - he’d rented it in anticipation of Mari’s family bash lasting a while. Not liking the idea of walking home to his too-big room and empty bed in the middle of the night, he’d decided a hotel room was the best course of action. Even it he was still alone, at least it wouldn’t be so...open.

Finding the small sink, Adrien reached into the bathroom, flipping on the light and closed the door until it was just a slit. Grabbing the courtesy cup sitting by the sink, Adrien flipped on the tap and stuck the cup under the running water. Rooting around in his toiletry bag until he unearthed a bottle of pain pills. Pulling his overflowing cup from the sink and frowning at his inexplicably wet hand, Adrien tossed the pills back, forcing himself to finish the entire glass of water before he shut off the water and wandered back towards the bed.

He paused, watching the city lights from the open curtains shine over the lump of blankets on the bed. Bed, bed….his bed was moving. Why was his bed breathing?

Shifting, his foot hit something on the floor. Frowning, Adrien looked down at the pile of fabric that looked shone faintly in the moonlight. It wasn’t his; he hung his clothes up. And there were different textures under his toes. Nudging it with his foot, his toes caught on something that cupped his foot and shifted it aside. Adrien’s brain stuttered to a halt.

 _Holy hell is that a_ bra? His muddled brain demanded. Why was there a _bra_ on his floor - he didn’t wear bras! Did he?

Adrien patted his chest, just to make sure. Well, he didn’t need the support, and he hoped that he hadn’t taken up drunken cross-dressing, because that absolutely sounded like something Nino would dare him to do. If, no, _when_ the tabloids go ahold of that, his Father would _murder_ him, and-

Marinette.

The breath left his lungs in a _woosh_ as he realized that was _Marinette’s_ bra on his floor. Because that was _Marinette_ in his _bed,_ wearing his old shirt. Because they’d gone to her family’s Christmas party, (Well, it hadn’t really been her family’s Christmas party. Maybe it should be called “the Christmas party her family was invited to?”) and Bridgette and Felix had gotten them completely sauced on premium tequila. And Marinette didn’t want to try to get home, so he’d invited her to his room to sleep.

Yeah, he invited the girl he was secretly in love with up to his room to sleep off a bender wearing nothing but a shirt (his shirt!) and sexy panties. This was a great idea. What could possibly go wrong?

“Way to make your life one _thousand_ times more difficult, Adrien.” He mumbled to himself, reluctantly making his way back to the bed and perching gingerly on the edge. Marinette slept on, oblivious to his plight. Rolling onto his side to face her, Adrien studied her. Black hair pooled around her head and across the pillowcase. Her mouth hung open slightly, the blankets over her body rising and falling subtly as she breathed.

This wasn’t so bad. He could handle this. Closing his eyes, Adrien took a deep breath, and willed himself to sleep.

 

Marinette woke up to something warm wrapped around her. Her mouth was dry and felt kind of gross, and her head was vaguely achey. Her hair was in her face, and Marinette lifted a hand to swipe it out of the way. Or, well, she tried to. She was stopped by the arm draped across her chest.

Oh. Well, that wasn’t so bad - it was warm and comfortable, and the person at her back was equally warm and comfortable. She didn’t really need to move her hair, what the heck was she going to look at in the middle of the night anyway? And it hadn’t been her hair, or the faint light, or even the arm pinning her down that had woken her: it was the thing poking her in the buttcheek. 

Damn, it was annoying. Grimacing, Marinette shifted, trying to adjust her position. However, the warmth followed her...and so did pokey thing. Marinette shrugged at the arm around her, which obligingly moved down around her waist. Yawning, Marinette rolled over, shoving her hair out of her face and squinting up at the person behind her. 

Adrien was fast asleep, ambient light silvering strands of his hair and highlighting the lines of his torso. Grimacing, Marinette wiggled her hand down between them to grab the offending item (had he dropped his phone or something?), only for her hand to close around something long, cylindrical, and covered in fleecy knit fabric.

Oh. _Oh._ That...was definitely not his phone. And now that her brain had muddled through the alcohol still fuzzing it, she wondered why she had thought it might be. Because, really, this was _nothing_ like a phone.

As if to further compound her embarrassment, Adrien’s hips rolled. It was only a little bit, but it was enough to push his clothed erection further into her grasp before it slid back. Marinette’s eyes blew wide as she stared at his sleeping face, barely registering his soft _“Mmm.”_ as she did. Was he still sleeping? Did guys get… like that...when they were _sleeping?_ Was he having some kind of dirty dream? Or was he having her on and just making fun of her for grabbing his dick?

Experimentally, she gave the erection in her grasp a squeeze while she studied his face. His brows might have twitched, lips pursing slightly, but otherwise no movement. He didn’t open his eyes, smirk, or give any other indication he was feigning sleep. Marinette’s lips pursed as she considered.

There was no time like the present, her uninhibited mind reasoned, to satisfy some curiosity. Granted, the whole “wondering how big Adrien’s dick was” wasn’t something she did often - and in fact, tried to avoid thinking about. Still, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wondered on occasion. 

Biting her lip, Marinette’s eyes closed as she slid her hand along his length. Even through the cloth, it grazed her wrist as she pressed upwards to the top before reversing direction to find the base. Marinette’s heart pounded in her throat, tearing at the edges of the alcohol-haze, as his hips shifted, vaguely thrusting against her. The vee of her legs tingled as she considered the possibilities - how he would feel inside of her, his breath hitching as he got closer to orgasm. How his lips would taste on hers, how he would press against her. How-

Marinette cut off the train of thought, realizing her hand had _continued_ it’s ministrations, semi-jerking him off as she fantasized about sex with him. She let him go, sliding her hand over her hip to erase the feel of him against her palm. 

Fantasizing, she told herself sternly, was one thing - something you did in the late hours when the loneliness got to be too much. When you were tired and wrung out and needed some stress relief. It wasn’t a justification for feeling up your _platonic_ partner, who was also your _best friend,_ while he was drunk and sleeping. 

Marinette swallowed the lump in her throat, shame burning her cheeks, but found herself unable to disengage from him fully. It was what she _should_ have done, but instead she found her arm rising, nudging the arm he still had draped over her to slide across his ribs. She splayed her fingers across his back, desperately trying to ignore his hardened length trapped between them. Instead she focused on his breathing, taking in the steady rise and fall of his chest and the way it brushed against her. Studying his lips - which were at her eye level - would only lead to wondering things better left alone, so she dropped her gaze to focus on his chin, instead.

“You didn’t have to stop, you know.” His voice rumbled near her ear, his breath ghosting over her face as his mumbled the words sleepily.

Marinette froze. She dragged her gaze up his face in horror.

“If you didn’t want to, I mean.” His eyes were barely slitted open as he peered at her sleepily. “I don’t mind. Felt good.”

Marinette stared at him. 

“But if you don’t want to, that’s okay.” He yawned, arm tightening around her as he nuzzled against her. His chin tilted, lips brushing absently across her forehead as his eyes slid closed again.

“You don’t mind?” Marinette blurted. “What?”

“Hmm?” Adrien’s eyebrows arched, even though his eyes didn’t open. “Nah.”

“But...but we’re _friends.”_ Marinette protested confusedly...and wondered why she was protesting. He’d just given her permission to molest him! Why the blue hell was she hesitating? “Shouldn’t you be upset or something? You don’t like me that way.”

“Friends.” Adrien mumbled wryly. “I know. You don’ like me that way.”

 _“I_ don’t?” Marinette grumbled. “ _You_ don’t.”

“Yea I do.” Adrien protested sleepily, one eye slitted open as he frowned at her. “Love you, an’ stuff. Always have.”

Marinette could feel her mouth fall open at the bomb he’d casually dropped on her. _Loved her? Always had?_

Adrien, apparently deciding the life-changing conversation was over, closed his eye again.

“Adrien.” Marinette whispered faintly.

“Mm?”

“Do you mean that?”

“‘Course I do.” Adrien mumbled through a jaw-cracking yawn. “‘Said it, didn’ I?”

“Adrien.”

“Mm?”

“...Kiss me.” The words were a breathless whisper as Marinette stared at her partner in bewildered shock. Honestly, she half-expected him to snore in response. He’d fall asleep, and later they’d wake up and he’d forget this whole conversation ever happened. Because this wasn’t real anyway - there was _no way_ he’d loved her “always” and just kind of forgot to tell her. And she could go on as she had, his best friend who just happened to have boobs, pining after him as he-

Adrien leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Marinette gasped and he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. His tongue darted out, nudging her barely parted lips, teeth nipping her lower lip as he silently begged entrance. Marinette acquiesced with a sigh, opening her mouth to let his tongue sweep over hers, curling against her teeth as he pulled her closer. 

Her fingers flexed against his back, nails scraping as sudden need consumed her. All at once, she didn’t _care_ if this was real - if he took it all back in the morning, it would be weird, but they could chalk it up to alcohol and she would have _one_ warm memory to cherish. One night where he _loved_ her, and wanted her as desperately as she wanted him.

She shifted absently, rubbing her thighs together to try to ease the ache as her fingers buried themselves in his hair. His hand, which had been pressing her against him, roamed down her back, over the curve of her ass before traveling back up, grasping the hem of her shirt and tugging it up. It didn’t go too far, and he didn’t seem to be willing to let her go so she could sit up and tug it off. Instead his hand dove underneath it, palms smoothing up over her ribs. Marinette groaned and arched into him as his hand closed over her breast.

Adrien bit at her bottom lip before switching gears and pressing kisses along her face and jaw. His teeth clicked against the Miraculous in her ear as he nipped at the lobe, sucking on it gently. Normally, people messing with her ears made Marinette uneasy, but with Adrien the gesture only further reduced her to putty. Marinette groaned as he released her ear to kiss his way down her neck.

“Touch me.” He murmured against her collarbone. _”Please.”_

Marinette didn’t need further invitation, running her hands down his back and sliding them along the waistband of his pants. She ran a fingertip over the elastic of his boxers, dipping her finger underneath the hem and feeling him shiver as her nails brushed his abdomen. She closed her hand over his straining erection, gripping him as he thrust against her fingers and moaned into her neck.

“Mari,” He whimpered, his hand still clutching her breast, fingers rolling the nipple as his mouth latched onto her neck. “God, Marinette.”

The breathless need in his voice sent another spike of arousal rocketing through her as Marinette hiked her leg over his thigh, automatically trying to squirm closer to him. His hand left her breast, and she mourned the loss, even as it went sliding down her skin, under her arm, to cup her through her panties. Marinette whimpered at the pressure of his fingers rubbing against her aching clit.

“You’re wet.” He murmured, nipping at her chin. “I can feel you.”

Marinette shuddered as his fingers massaged her through the lace, hips tilting as she silently pleaded with him. Her grip on his cock tightened as he thrust into her hand. 

“Adrien,” She begged. “I need- _ahh, please?”_

“You need what?” Adrien mumbled against her lips, his teeth nipping as she moaned into his mouth.

“You.” She begged. “I need you. Inside me. _Please._ ”

She let go of him, ignoring his whine at the loss of contact, and pulled back to shove desperately at his pants. Adrien’s fingers drew away from her as he rolled onto his back, shoving his pants and underwear down, kicking them off and away. The motion threw the blankets down as well, leaving him completely nude in the thin morning light.

“You too.” He said, twisting back to her, his eyes glowing as the bored into hers. “I want to see you.”

Marienette swallowed compulsively, hooking her fingers into the band of her underwear and working them down without a second thought as she stared at Adrien’s cock, hard and jutting towards her. Naked except for his shirt, she crawled over to him, grinning when he gripped her waist to drag her half on top of him as he mashed his mouth against hers.

Marinette leaned into the kiss as he hands roamed the planes of his torso, smoothing over the muscles she found there, tweaking his nipples to hear him gasp and groan into her. His hand slid down her waist, and he buried his fingers in the curls at the juncture of her thighs, nudging her legs apart as he traced the seam of her lips. 

He groaned when he dipped a finger into her, her muscles clenching down on him and gripping him tightly. Pulling back, he added a second digit, pressing them into her, finger-fucking her as he stirred up the moisture he found there.

“You are so wet.” He panted into her mouth, his hips twitching in an unconscious mimicry of his hand. 

“You are so hard.” She replied, her hand closing around his aching flesh, pumping him as he whimpered. 

“I want you.” He begged, pressing desperate kisses anywhere he could reach. “Are you ready?”

In response, Marinette let go of his dick, swinging her leg over his hips to straddle his thighs. Reaching out, Adrien grabbed the hem of the shirt, tugging on it in silent encouragement. Obligingly, Marinette reached down, gripping the hem and drawing the shirt up over her head and tossing it aside. 

Adrien gaped at the picture she made, highlighted by the morning sun as she sat naked atop him with his cock jutting proudly before her. Her hair was sleep-mussed and her eyes were heavy as she reached out, closing her hand over him and pumping him slowly. 

“Mari,” He panted, hips bucking, “Mari, don’t tease.”

“I’m not.” She pouted. “I’m appreciating.”

“You are killing me.” He huffed out, grinning as he gripped her hip. “At least lean forward so I can touch you too.”

Marinette smirked at him, letting go of his cock and scooting forward, keeping her eyes on his as she leaned down.

“Ahh,” Adrien’s head tilted back and he whimpered as her wet heat slid over him, trapping him against her sopping folds. 

“What’s the matter, Chaton?” She teased, hips rocking as she rubbed her pussy against him. “I thought you wanted to touch me.”

“Oh, God,” He mumbled, his hands grabbing her hips, finger flexing desperately as he fought not to forcibly rub her against him. It felt _so good…_

And then her hips shifted forward, tilting, and pressing him into her. They panted as he felt her enclose the head, and he nearly whimpered as her tight heat gripped him, nearly sucking him in as it clenched down on him.

“Ahh,” Marinette’s moan was throaty as she tipped her head back, eyes sliding shut. “Yes…”

She rocked back against him, slowly working him into her, until he was fully seated within her. Marinette shuddered, her head falling forward against his chest. She felt so full: every aching, empty space of her was filled with the thick weight of him resting inside her. She paused, clenching down on him, listening to his tremulous little moan as his hips thrust up and press against her core. 

It was amazing, and wonderful, and everything she’d wanted as she rocked against him, hands pressed to the mattress beneath him so she could brace above him. Every pass dragged her clit against him, adding to the rapidly spiraling sensation. Adrien thrust up into her helplessly, his hands coming up to palm her breasts, pinching and rolling the nipples as he kissed every patch of skin he could reach as they fell into a steady rhythm. 

“You’re amazing,” he panted, one hand releasing her breast to drag her face down to his so he could capture her lips. “I love you.” He blurted out.

Marinette stilled momentarily, before resuming her pace, grinding down on him harder, driving him towards the end.

“I love you, too.” She admitted. “So much. God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

“Possibly as long as I have.” Adrien chuckled.

Marinette halfway wanted to argue the point, but the pressure in her abdomen was coiling like a spring, coiled on the edge of an explosion. The friction on her clit was almost more than she could stand, and the feeling of him dragging out of her only the thrust back in was better than she’d imagined. 

She licked her lips, unashamed of the noises she made, braced above him with her breasts winging in his face as she shamelessly rubbed herself against him. She was close. She was _so close,_ right there at the edge of the abyss.

Her eyes opened to find Adrien staring at her, pupils blown wide in his lust-darkened gaze, watching her in awe as she rode him. Perfectly sculpted lips opened, and-

“Come for me, Princess.” He breathed.

Marinette couldn’t have denied him if she’d wanted to. His words, tone reverent and desperate, eyes dark and wanted, and the feel of him thrusting into her were all more than she could take. Marinette’s head tipped back, eyes sliding closed and mouth opening on a gasping moan as something inside her _snapped,_ sending her toppling off the edge. Every muscle seized up as she bore down on him, hips stuttering as her orgasm washed over her.

She was still coming down, aftershocks rocking her, as Adrien’s hips bucked against her. His hands dropped from her breasts, gripping her hips and shoving her down onto him. His head was pressing back against the pillow, and he was moaning her name as his rhythm faltered, thrusting desperately as she clenched around him and he spilled inside her.

It was long moments as their movements stilled, gradually stopping and leaving them both sweating and shivering as the morning light spilled into the window. Adrien’s hand slapped around the bed, groping blindly for the covers as he pulled the blanket up and over their still-joined bodies.

He was softening, slipping out of her, and they should probably go clean up. But Marinette’s naked form was warm against him, hair spilling around them like ink as she snuggled against him. She hummed happily as he covered them with the discarded blanket.

“What time is check out?” She mumbled sleepily. 

“Chloe gave me late check out, so I don’t have to leave until two.” Adrien yawned, sleep dragging at his eyes as he craned his neck to try to look at the clock. “Ugh, it’s only _seven.”_

“Great.” Marinette sighed, sliding off of him and snuggling against his side. “Plenty of time for a nap.”

In moments she was out, still curled against him. Adrien rolled over, pulling her closer. Later, he knew, they would have to talk. This...encounter...might have been fueled by alcohol and lust, but the feelings were completely real on his side. He loved her. He wanted her. He wanted to keep her, forever if he could. He just needed to know where she stood on the matter.

“I can hear you worrying.” Marinette mumbled against his chest. “Sleep, Kitty. Love you.” She breathed softly, pressing a kiss to his skin before her breathing evened out once more. 

Adrien smiled, hope tugging at his heart. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be her fake boyfriend for very much longer.

 

_Bonus Scene:_

Marinette slid in the side door, wrinkled dress rustling as she sneaked up the stairs to her house. Never had she been so grateful that it was the lunch rush, and her parents would be busy downstairs. She could just slip up to her room, shower, change, and pretend like she’d had a lie-in and had been here all along. As long as her parents hadn’t been to her room to check up on her, she’d be-

Marinette opened the front door, to find Alya sitting on the couch reading.

“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in.” She drawled, smirking as she folded the magazine and stood up, dragging her gaze over last night’s dress and the shoes clutched in her hands. 

“The cat didn’t drag me, I walked myself.” Marinette mumbled, shutting the door behind her with a sigh. 

“No,” Alya sounded _far_ too amused for Marinette’s comfort, “the cat _ravished_ you instead. Or did you do the ravishing?”

“Shuddup, Alya.” Marinette whined, marching past her and towards the stairs.

“Marinette’s very first Walk of Shame.” Alya cooed, trailing behind her and pretending to wipe a tear away. “My baby’s all grown up.”

“Oh my god, stop.” Marinette groaned, dropping her shoes on her bedroom floor, opening her purse to let Tikki out before reaching for her zipper. “How do you even know it was like that?”

“Girl, it’s always like that.” Alya smirked, grasping the troublesome zipper and tugging it down. “And besides, you’re glowing. _That,_ my friend, is a well-fucked look.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Marinette mumbled, dropping her dress and the damnable bra into the hamper as she turned to rummage for something more comfortable to wear.

“What can I say? Nino looks _great_ in green: it does things for me.” Alya grinned. “Also, you’ve got hickeys.”

Marinette shot her a look as she slid on a pair of pants. 

“So, now that you two have rocked each other’s world,” Alya asked leadingly, “inquiring minds want to know…”

It should be illegal to be this invested in your friend’s bedroom activities, Marinette thought. But she and Alya had been friends and confidantes too long to deny her now.

“...He’s taking me on a date on Tuesday.” She admitted.

“Yes!” Alya cheered, fist pumping. She grinned widely. Somewhere above and behind her, Trixx cheered and Tikki giggled. “How does it feel?”

“...Amazing.” Marinette confided with a laugh, heartened by her friends blatant enthusiasm. “You have _got_ to help me decide what to wear.”

 

_Bonus, bonus scene:_

Once the lunch rush slowed, Sabine made her excuses and slipped upstairs to find Alya eating leftovers in the kitchen. 

“Soo…” She asked leadingly. 

Grinning, Alya handed her a twenty-euro note. “You were right.”

“What can I say? A mother knows these things.” Saine said smugly, tucking the bill into her pocket. 

“Yeah yeah,” Alya waved away her satisfaction with a grin. “Next bet: how long until the wedding?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, confession time: I'm kind of trash for the fake dating trope, and the friends-to-lovers trope. So I did both, and this prompt ran away with me. Like, way away. 27 pages and 10k+ words away.
> 
> I am ded. D-E-D ded. Bronte kind of gave me the stink-eye over giving M a little brother, but I figured that as LB, she was probably used to stressful situations with little sleep. So, what would it take to make her lose it and open her mouth w/o thinking? Baby brain. Buuutttt....I didn't want her to be a mom, so Sabine had a Surprise! Late in life bonus baby. 
> 
> I actually had a lot of fun imaging a grown Marinette with a tiny little baby and being a mini-mom who is totally in love with her baby brother. And imaging Adrien watching this like "Awww this is amazing and awesome and I want all of it." Like, this is something I want to do. I'd like to make this a multi-chapter fun fic. Don't know if I ever _will_ , but the idea is definitely there.
> 
> NOTE: Now with more bonus pieces in the comment section. Please save me from myself.
> 
> Up tomorrow: Christmas Lights, and part 2 of the Ladrien arc!


	20. Christmas Lights (Ladrien pt2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 20: Christmas Lights  
> Part 2 of the Ladrien arc  
> Part 1: Christmas movie, chapter 12

It was a charity fundraiser dinner for fallen heroes, and Adrien was in attendance. Ladybug, who hadn’t seen him in more than a week (in either guise), nearly swallowed her tongue when he wandered in, wearing the latest _Gabriel_ suit and her favorite green tie. He looked amazing, and Ladybug was torn between wanting to admire him against the backdrop of Christmas lights around the room, and wanting to drag him away.

There had been a cocktail hour before dinner was to be served, and everyone mingled, making small talk and rubbing elbows in the way only the stupendously rich could do. Ladybug felt kind of naked without Chat Noir by her side, making his usual jokes in her ear and guiding her with his (surprisingly) flawless manners, but her partner had been unable to attend, citing family obligations he couldn’t get away from. So Ladybug had mingled, making small talk and feeling terribly out of place, until she turned to find Adrien standing next to her, a polite smile fixed on his face.

“Ladybug.” He said pleasantly, as if he hadn’t ploughed her into his mattress just ten days ago.

“Monsieur Agreste.” Ladybug replied, holding out her hand to shake. It was the usual game, part and parcel of being a superhero. Either your significant other didn’t know your alter ego, or they didn’t know your real name. Luckily, that was something Adrien seemed to understand...or at least didn’t push her on.

Ladybug blinked as a slip of paper was pushed into her hand, but didn’t otherwise react. They chatted about inconsequential, meaningless things for a few minutes before Adrien moved away, wandering off to mingle with other guests who were probably more of his social caliber. However, the subtle smirk he sent her, his eyes shifting to follow her even as he walked past her, had her tingling.

She held onto the slip of paper in her palm, fingers loosely curled to keep it concealed, until she could safely move off to the side to glance at it.

_Linen closet next to the restrooms. 2130. Code is 0815._

At 2115, Ladybug officially left the party. She had smoozed with the elite and special guests, dealt with being stuck at Mayor Bourgeois’ table with Chloe ( _and_ Adrien!), and made her speech about honoring the brave emergency services personnel who had fallen in the line of duty. She had clapped politely when the Mayor presented the check for the money pledged to the Survivor’s Society, and had defintely not fantasized about doing her secret boyfriend dirty on the table while the colored lights around the room played on his features.

...Well, that was a lie. But as her appointed meeting time drew near, Maintaining a professional air grew more difficult. Not touching Adrien grew more difficult. Sitting still, trying not to rub her thighs together as anticipation mounted, grew insanely difficult. By the time she made it out the door, Ladybug was almost beside herself in agitation. 

She swung around the block before circling back, just in case anyone had watched her leave. Behind the building, next to a door she’d propped open with a rock, she detransformed, ushering Tikki into her purse.

Chat would be in _stitches_ if he knew one person could have such a dramatic effect on her. Then again, he might not be. Despite rebuffing his efforts constantly, he never did stop, even if it had scaled back to a manageable level in recent times. So there was every chance that, instead of being amused by her distraction and skulking around over a boy, he’d just be annoyed. However, even thinking about her partner’s ire at her behavior did nothing to cool the ardor plaguing her as she punched in the closet code, arriving a full ten minutes early in case somebody came by.

The closet was surprisingly spacious, and Marinette made note to use it if she were ever in the hotel and needed a place to detransform. (Because, really, with the amount of akumas Chloe had after her, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.) Did all the closets use the same code? She’d have to ask Adrien.

As she lurked behind a shelf and waited for Adrien, Marinette gave into the urge to rub her thighs together, though it did little to relieve the ache. Biting her lip, Marinette opened her purse.

“Ready Tikki?” She whispered.

“Mm, ready!” The kwami chirped happily, smiling up from amidst the crumbs. 

“Thanks, Tikki. You’re amazing.” Marinette beamed. “Spots on!”

Giggling, Tikki zipped into the earrings.

Tikki, Marinette had found, was surprisingly chill about her relationship with Adrien, and being privy to sights or sounds she maybe rather _wouldn’t_ be privy to. She didn’t bat an eye about Marinette using her alter ego to visit Adrien, and she apparently didn’t care about having to be nearby while they, _ahem_ , “enjoyed each other’s company” either.

_“Marinette,” Tikki smiled, “do you really think you’re the first Ladybug to do this? Not too long ago, girls your age were already married and mothers. One bedroom huts, or communal living. I’ve seen or heard all kinds of things. This doesn’t bother me.”_

_“Oh.” Marinette murmured. “I...hadn’t really considered it. You’ve experienced a lot, haven’t you?”_

_“Mostly second-hand, but yes.” Tikki nodded._

_“‘Mostly?’” Marinette repeated questioningly._

_“Some Ladybugs have really tested the elasticity of the suit.” Tikki said with a wink._

Marinette had simultaneously been amused and horrified. And maybe a little morbidly curious… how elastic _was_ the suit, exactly? 

The door cracking open distracted her from her thoughts, and Ladybug shrinked back, peering through a gap in the towels as a familiar silhouette slipped into the room. As the door closed, the floor lights lit up, providing just enough illumination to see Adrien’s outline as he moved closer.

“Ladybug?” She heard him whisper. “Are you in here?”

In response, Ladybug reached around the shelf, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him in to smash her lips against his. Adrien responded in kind, grabbing her neck and tilting his head to deepen the kiss as his other hand slid behind her. His teeth grazed her lower lip, stopping just shy of pain, and he used her gasp to slide his tongue into her mouth. He pressed her back, walking her backwards until she bumped into a wall before pressing against her.

Ladybug nearly moaned as she felt his erection pressing against her. She reached around, sliding her hands under his unbuttoned suit jacket, grabbing his ass and pulling him against her. Adrien rolled his hips, rubbing his erection against her hip as his fingers tightened in her hair.

“I’ve been watching you all night.” He mumbled, breaking away from her mouth to press kisses to her jaw. “It’s been driving me crazy.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” Ladybug laughed breathlessly. “I didn’t almost screw up my speech because I was looking at you, and I definitely was not entertaining fantasises about doing you on the table while the Mayor was talking.”

“Table? I was imagining you riding me while I sat on a chair.” Adrien said, nipping at the skin of her neck, before sucking to soothe the sting. “I have never been so glad a tablecloth covered my lap.”

“How did you even walk?” Ladybug sniggered, grasping him through his slacks, squeezing just to hear him gasp. 

“It’s something you learn to do.” He shrugged. His hand slipped down her front, rubbing at her through her suit. “And my suit jacket is long enough to help.”

Ladybug shifted her stance, spreading her legs a bit as her boyfriend pressed his fingers against her, rubbing mercilessly. Dimly, she wondered exactly how stretchy the suit could be. Because now she was realizing that...they had a problem.

“What’s that?” Adrien asked, and she realized she’d spoken aloud.

“Floor lights.” Ladybug gasped, hips jerking as Adrien’s fingers circled her clit. “If I can see you, you can see me.”

Adrien stilled. “Oh, shi...no, wait.” Impatiently he shrugged at his jacket, setting it across a shelf before he reached up and loosened his tie.

Ladybug’s breath caught as she realized what he was getting at. Adrien pulled the tie up, slipping it over his eyes and tugging the knot until it was firmly across them.

“Will this work?” He asked, eyebrows raising above the fabric.

“Perfect.” Ladybug breathed. “Tikki, spots off.”

After Tikki was settled, Marinette set the purse on top of Adrien’s jacket, where Tikki would hopefully be more comfortable. She turned back to Adrien, only to get shoved against the wall. His hands were at her waist, gripping tightly while his teeth fastened on her neck. Marinette gasped, automatically tilting her head to grant him better access as she fumbled with his belt buckle. 

His hands were doing similar things, popping the button on her pants and shoving them down her hips without preamble. Marinette helpfully kicked her shoes off, letting him push her pants down her legs to pool around her ankles, making a soft noise of surprise when he followed them. Kneeling in front of her, he hooked her underwear in his fingers, drawing them down, following with his lips.

Marinette automatically widened her stance, head making a dull _thunk_ against the wall faintly when he licked a broad strip up her dripping slit. He pressed a finger into her, adding a second and pumping them in and out. Marinette’s hips bucked automatically when his lips closed over her slit, crying out as he sucked strongly. 

She thought she had been worked up before. But the sight of Adrien kneeling before her, a silk tie over his eyes and his mouth on her pussy only served to drive her crazy. He might have been the one on his knees, but she was helpless under the onslaught as he drover higher. She shoved a knuckle into her mouth, trying to muffle the noises as loved her with his mouth. His fingers stirred up her insides, curling and pressing against her walls as he sucked on her clit, circling it wit his tongue and teasing it with his lips. 

She came with a shout, biting down on her hand and tasting blood as she tried to stifle the noise. Her hips jerked, held only by his hand on her thigh as she rode his face and fingers, moaning. She managed to remain standing when he pulled away, head back and eyes closed as she panted. 

Since her eyes were closed, it came as a complete surprise when Adrien’s hands grabbed her under her ass, hauling her up. Wrenching her legs wider apart as he sheathed himself inside of her in one quick motion, pinning her against the wall as he thrust into her aggressively. Marinette’s eyes blew wide at the sensation, feeling the fabric of his slacks abrading the inside of her thighs and dragging over her already-sensitive flesh with delicious friction as he rocked against her.

His teeth dug into the muscle of her shoulder above the collar of her shirt, hot breath fanning over her skin as he panted through his nose. Her arms wound around his neck, grabbing his hair, tugging on it as her core tightened again. Hurriedly, she stuffed the end of his tie into her mouth to muffle her screams as a second explosive orgasm rocked her.

Adrien cried out, spine bending, teeth sinking into her flesh as his orgasm rocked though him, leaving him dizzy and spent, shaking in the aftermath. He relaxed, using his weight to pin her to the wall as he felt her wetness soaking into the front of his pants. 

Thank goodness he had a jacket.

Eventually he stood up, and Marinette slid down the wall until her feet touched ground. Swallowing, she leaned up to press a kiss to her lips.

“That was amazing.” She whispered.

“It really was.” Adrien replied, nudging her nose with his as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips affectionately. “Do you want to leave first, or shall I?”

She didn’t want to leave at all. She wanted to walk out with him, hand-in-hand and giggling like guilty school children. She wanted to go home together, and look him in the eyes while they relaxed on the couch or snuggled in bed. She was tired of masks: she wanted him to see her. 

“I’ll leave first.” She whispered. She was tired of watching him walk away. “Give me a few minutes to get clear. I’ll see you later?”

“Of course.” Adrien replied afably. 

Without further fanfare, Marinette collected her belongings, putting on her clothes as he tidied himself up. Calling for Tikki, she slipped out of the closet, confident that Adrien wouldn’t tug the tie down to try to glimpse her as she departed. Adrien had proven, time and again, that she could trust him. 

Now if only she could be brave enough to tell him that she loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I didn't really do a very good job of incorporating those Christmas lights, did I? Like, I had this whole scene where she made love to him in his room and the lights were strung around the bed and it was all very sexy and romantic and... kind of depressing. Mopey, melancholy Marinette. 
> 
> So instead Adrien took the initiative and did her dirty in the linen closet. Good thing there were plenty of clean towels to wipe up with?
> 
> Tomorrow's Prompt: Yule! Mystery pairing (seriously, even I don't know what it is yet).


	21. Yule (Adrientte AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 21: Yule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is set in the wonderfully witchy universe of Something Familiar, by Freedom_Shamrock! A HUGE thank you for letting me use your universe to play in for a day! I hope I did your characters justice!

Chat lounged by the fireside, drowsy and content. Freezing rain pelted the glass outside, but inside was warm and toasty. Marinette was in the kitchen with Nino and Sabine making cookies, and the mutton they’d prepared earlier was roasting in the oven with traditional winter vegetables. Caviar and oysters were sitting on the coffee table, and a bit of smoked salmon was with them. Alya’s was going to be arriving soon, and Chat - Adrien - had just finished helping Tom light the Yule Log in the fireplace. 

Normally, the head of the household was the one to light the Yule Log. But since it was Chat and Marinette’s first Christmas in their own house, Tom and Sabine had bent the rules a little, and Chat helped Tom light theirs. Tomorrow morning, he and Marinette would take a piece of the remaining log to their home, to save and use to light their first Yule log next year.

_“Are you sure?” He’d asked her back when her father had suggested it. “It’s our first year - our first Yule - in our own home. We can spend it there, if you’d like.”_

_“It doesn’t really_ feel _like a home right now.” Marinette replied, nose scrunching as she about her words. “It’s ours, and we’ll make it our home, but it’s not yet. Does that make sense?”_

_“You feel…” Chat paused and hummed thoughtfully. “Like this is...bringing a piece of our old home here, then?”_

_“Kind of.” Marinette nodded. “Like carrying a torch, in an almost literal sense.”_

Trixx, Nino’s familiar was snuggled up next to him, having been chased away from the evergreen boughs and the shiny ornaments for the third (or fifth, or twentieth) time. Chat understood the fascination - even though he was only _sometimes_ a cat, the temptation to bat at shiny objects was still there. However, they’d both been involved in the earlier Yule ritual, and the energy used in that had tuckered them out. Callie was somewhere nearby, but Chat and Trixx had claimed the spot in front of the fire place to recuperate until the rest of the guests arrived.

“Kitty?”

Chat raised his head towards where he could hear Marinette working in the kitchen, faint tendrils of magic drifting into the plaits of the bread she was braiding. 

“I just realized that I forgot our Yule gifts upstairs.” Marinette said apologetically. “Would you please go get them? Alya’s family will be here in about ten minutes.”

Chat rose, stretching and yawning, feeling the familiar magic coursing through him as he shifted from cat to man. Careful not to step on Trixx, or Callie who had hopped down to take his place, Adrien ambled upstairs for the gifts he and Marinette had brought. 

Most of them were fairly small things: knitted scarves or hats, little potions or charmed talismans for luck or health or any number of uses. A new purse for Alya, a beanie with fox ears for Nino. Adrien wasn’t much of a creator, but he could boost the magical power associated with the items, so that had been his contribution to a lot of the gifts. 

Reaching into a small pocket of his overnight bag, Chat withdrew a small box, cracking it open to look at the ring inside one more time. The center diamond with it’s emerald accents sparkled up at him merrily. As his best friend, Nino had gone with him to pick out the ring - and he would be going to help him pick out his own ring that he wanted to present to Alya later this coming year. He had shown it to Tom when he’d asked his permission (a mere formality, but Chat felt better for following the tradition), and he’d agreed that it was perfect. Sabine had been thrilled, hugging him and crying when she saw.

Now he only needed Marinette’s approval.

Chat huffed out a small laugh, tamping down on his nervousness before Marinette picked up on it and came looking for him. He wasn’t even sure _why_ he was nervous: they were already wed in all but name. They had been bonded as Witch and Familiar for nearly a decade: they worked together, they lived together, they ate and slept together. A wedding wouldn’t change anything except her last name. Or his.

Slipping the box into his pocket, Chat made his way downstairs to see Alya’s family coming in through the door, all noise and chatter in the way they normally were. The entire house was warm and boisterous and loving, in a way his never had been growing up. Chat allowed himself to be enveloped in hugs from Alya and Marlene, and thought that maybe he understood where Marinette had been coming from, not wanting to hold Yule in their new house this year. Their home didn’t have this atmosphere yet.

Yet, he told himself. It would someday.

He waited until after dinner, despite the impatient looks that his not-quite in-laws and his best friend were shooting him. It was quite amusing, actually, to watch Sabine fidget and Tom chew his mustache. It got even more entertaining when everyone was opening presents: they seemed oddly invested whenever Marinette found a box under the tree, only to sit back with barely-concealed disappointment when it wasn’t what they expected. 

“Would you stop messing with us?” Nino hissed in his ear. 

Chat chuckled. “What do you mean?”

“You are such a cat.” Nino nearly wailed it, raising his hands to mime strangling his friend, who only grinned at him in response. “You are _toying_ with us.”

“A little.” Chat admitted. However, as soon as the last gift was handed out, he stood up. Immediately, every eye in the room swung towards him, and Chat faltered, feeling suddenly shy. Maybe asking here wasn’t a good idea. This was too big, too important, too personal, too-

Reassurance flooded him, coming in soothing waves through the bond between him and Marinette. 

_You’ve got this, Kitty._ Marinette’s eyes shone as she smiled at him lovingly.

Chat cleared is throat and chuckled. Why did he ever think he could hide anything from her?

“I have one more present to hand out.” He announced. “I thought about putting it under the tree, but I didn’t want it to go to the wrong person.”

“You mean it’s not for me?” Tom Dupain mock pouted, folding his arms and pretending to pout.

“It’s a little small for you.” Chat said. “It might fit someone else better.”

Marinette smiled at him as he knelt in front of her. Chat opened his mouth - he’d had a grand speech rehearsed for weeks now - but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he offered her the little box with it’s festive red bow on an open palm.

“I love you.” He told her simply, heart racing as he tried to flood their bond with everything he felt for her. “More than anything. Please, will you marry me.”

Marinette set the box on her lap and beamed at him. “Yes.”

Relief was like a tidal wave, delayed adrenaline making him feel shaky. “You haven’t seen the ring.”

“It’s from you.” She replied, cupping his cheek as she leaned in to kiss him. “It’s perfect.”

 

Later that night, as they lay in their old bed, Marinette held her hand out above her head, watching the ring sparkle on her finger. 

“You kind of went overboard.” She commented.

Chat snorted softly. “I can afford it.”

“Still.” She said softly. 

“It had to be ‘befitting of an Agreste wife.’” Chat quipped. Irritation drifted over their bond, and Chat winced. “No, I didn’t get my father’s approval on the ring.” He said to her unvoiced question. “But that was what he said when I told him I was planning on asking you to marry me.”

“It was good of you to tell him at all.” Marinette said neutrally. She had never quite forgiven his father for how he had treated his son. Truthfully, neither had Chat, but they could both admit that the man was a necessary evil in their lives.

“Nathalie saw me looking at rings on my phone.” Chat said. “She recommended I tell him, so he wouldn’t be caught out if somebody asked.”

Honestly, he hadn’t given his father’s words a second thought, outside of noting that they were probably the closest Gabriel would ever get to approving their union.

“I’m...a little surprised.” Marinette said softly. “I didn’t think you would want to get married.”

“What do you mean?” Chat asked, rolling over to face her.

“Well, we’re already bound.” Marinette said, rolling over to her side and reaching for his hand. He let her as she laced their fingers together, holding them aloft to show the black and green leather bands that circled their wrists - wrapped twice in his case, and once in hers. “You’re my Familiar. I’m your Witch. Magically bonded for our entire lives. Marriage almost seems…” She shrugged, lips pursing as she lost the words.

“I’m greedy.” Chat admitted softly. “I want you in every sense. Magically. Legally.”

Some people may not respect their bond. May not recognize that he was more than just a Familiar. He’d caught them, flirting with Marinette before. Even when confronted with their relationship, some had looked at her left hand and refused to leave well enough alone. Not that Marinette ever gave them the time of day, but…

“A bracelet on one hand and a ring on the other?” Marinette laughed lightly.

“Every claim I can get.” Chat smiled, leaning forward, rubbing his cheek against hers.

“Ah! Stubble!” Marinette laughed. “Get away!”

“Never.” Chat grinned, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer. “You’re trapped.”

“Oh _no_ …” Marinette cried dramatically. “I’m trapped with a kind, caring, helpful, handsome fiance. The pain! The horror! Whatever shall I do?”

“I’m also your Familiar. And your cat.” Chat added helpfully.

“And he’s a cat!” Marinette cried obligingly. “Someone save me!”

“If you want released, there’s a price.” Chat growled playfully. 

“Oh?” Marinette leaned in closer. “Pray tell, sir dragon, what is the toll?”

“A kiss.” Chat nudged her nose with his.

“Just one?” She whispered.

“I’m open to negotiations.” Chat said, as her lips closed over his. 

As far as kisses went, it was a good one. The taste of her robbed him of his breath, but it always had; ever since those first hesitant, butterfly-inducing kisses when they were children, that had never changed. However much he’d grown and changed, from a terrified teenage runaway hiding as a cat into the confident and loved man he was today, that had never changed: kissing her left him breathless. They broke off, gasping, before he leaned back in, pressing his lips against her lips against her jaw, her cheeks and over the bridge of her nose.

“I thought it was _a_ kiss.” Marinette giggled.

“I’m greedy.” Chat replied, tightening his arms to pull her flush against him, letting her feel the way she affected him.

“You’re not greedy.” Marinette said softly, returning his kisses with ones of her own, rubbing her cheek against his jaw in a way that made him purr. He felt her smile as she kissed his throat, her hand sliding under the shirt he’d worn to bed to knead the muscles of his back. “You deserve everything.”

“I _have_ everything.” Chat rebutted, his own hand slipping under her shirt to smooth up her stomach and over her ribs. “I have you.”

Chat leaned back in, pressing his lips over hers, gratified when she tilted her head, opening her mouth to brush their tongues together. He drew his hand down her side, slipping it under the blankets and over her ass to grab her thigh and hitch it over his hip. Her knee hooked around his leg, pulling her up to grind against him with a small, breathy moan.

By silent accord they seperated, shedding clothes with practiced efficiency, dropping them on the floor next to the bed. Crawling back under the covers, Adrien leaned over his fiance, rolling her onto her back before leaning down to take one pert pink nipple into his mouth. 

His hand came up to grasp her other breast, rolling and pinching the nipple with practiced ease. The bond between them opened, her love and arousal flooding into him, his own reverberating back to her. She reached down between them, grasping his erection in her hand and pumping him steadily, gratified by the way his hips rolled in automatic response.

“Behind?” She asked breathlessly.

“Not tonight.” Adrien shook his head minutely, frowning slightly. Normally doggy-style was (despite its appalling name) his favorite position. There was something primal about it, that satisfied both the man and the cat in a way that would have been mildly embarrassing had it not felt so _good. Especially_ when he could lean forward or arch her back enough to grip her neck. But tonight it didn’t feel right: they were celebrating their engagement as a human couple. 

“Ahh.” Marinette hummed, seeming to understand his dilema without him having said anything. “Like this, then.” Her arm came up, nudging him up and over her. Her legs widened automatically, her hands reaching to grip his erection, rubbing it along her slit, gathering the moisture that had accumulated there before notching him to her opening.

Chat pressed into her when she released him, shallow thrusts as he worked his way in. Her feet pressed into the mattress, knees bending as her hips rose to meet his thrusts. Chat panted as her heat enveloped him, arms and legs winding around him to draw him into her as she leaned up to capture his lips.

Chat groaned into her mouth, her arousal flooding his senses, amplified by his own feeding into her. The satisfaction of being filled was a strange and foreign one, alien to his craving _to_ fill. He could feel himself pressing her to the mattress, weight pinning her under him even as he could feel his arms pressing against her as he braced above her. In moments like these, he was never sure where Chat ended and Marinette began.

He would have happily stayed there forever, immersed in her affection, awash in her love, aching with her need driving him higher. She pulled him closer, moaning tremulously into his mouth, nipping his lips and chin, begging silently. Then her hands were in his hair, nails scraping his scalp behind his ears and sending shivers of delight tingling down his spine straight into his groin. Her walls fluttered, clenching down on him as his rhythm stuttered and he was lost.

The orgasm didn’t rip through him, it wasn’t something that took him and tore him apart, leaving him shaking and exhausted. Not that he hadn’t had those before - the ones where the need and the heat drove you past reason as it consumed you. This one was almost gentle despite it’s intensity, washing over him like a warm wave as he pressed into his mate. Short, hard thrusts into her that left them both feeling fuzzy and wonderfully sated as they lay together.

“That was wonderful.” Marinette murmured, kissing him gently.

“It was.” He agreed. “I needed that.”

“I think we both did.” She agreed genially, their bond awash in sleepy contentment. 

Chat chuckled softly, rolling off of her and pulling her against him. Her hand covered his, and he could feel the metal of her ring brushing against the back of his hand. 

It was a nice balance, his sleepy mind decided. On one hand they wore the gifts she had given to him, to symbolize and finalize their Familiar Contract. On the other, she wore the ring he had given her, to represent his promise to her of a different union - a marriage contract. Later, they would both wear rings when the bond was finalized. 

“We take care of each other,” Marinette murmured sleepily, “always.”

“Always.” Chat agreed softly, and let slumber take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was kind of cavity-inducing. I kind of felt bad for making these sweet little cinnamon rolls do dirty things...and in the end they pretty much refused anyway. It was all disgustingly cute, and while I'm not sure I'm satisfied with it, I don't know what I would change. Also, it's 1920, and y'all have waited long enough.
> 
> Again, massive, giant, bone-crushing hugs to Freedom_Shamrock, for letting me use her characters. If you haven't read Something Familiar, you're missing out. 
> 
> Something Familiar: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10793181/chapters/23940201
> 
> Tomorrow you're getting a full-on, in-your-face dose of BRONTE, who has promised me amazing and terribly racy things. I'm sweating already.


	22. Silent Night (Adrinette)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 22: Silent Night by Bronte  
> Pairing: Adrinette (featuring dom!Adrien)
> 
> Hello everyone! Your neighbourhood prodigal sinner has returned bearing gifts of sex. This chapter is a direct continuation of chapter 5, also known as the dom!Adrien chapter. I'm a slut for d/s, ya'll should know that by now. If you were looking for fluff, this is _not_ it.
> 
> Enjoy sinners!

A continuation of [Chapter 5 (Shopping)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12881412/chapters/29532372)  

     22. Silent Night

Naked, bound and blushing head to toe, Marinette writhes and tries not to scream, she really does but  _ god _ , it’s so hard when he’s like this, fucking her absolutely senseless in front of their floor to ceiling windows for all the world to see.

And Adrien? Well, he has every intention of drawing this out.

She'd walked back to the car from the lingerie store with her thighs drawn together tightly and Adrien couldn't help but grin, the telltale signs of their lovemaking reflecting off her skin in the waning sunlight. He'd fucked her ruthlessly against the mirrors in the changeroom and there's a thin trail of come dripping down her thighs; he can see how embarrassed she is, her face flushed cherry red, her gait stiff and awkward.

His chauffeur gets out of the driver's seat and opens the door of the town car as she approaches, “Mme. Dupain-Cheng.”

“Thank you!” she squeaks and nearly leaps into the vehicle, her legs still determinedly shut.

“Did you have fun shopping?” Adrien smirks, revelling in the glower she sends his way. She crosses her thighs and the dribble of come smears across her skin.

“Give me my panties back,” she hisses, leaning over so only he can hear. Adrien raises a brow and pats his pockets, his mouth falling open in a perfect o.

“Oops,” he blinks at her, the smirk in his eyes belying his innocent expression, “I must have misplaced them.”

The ride home is mostly silent after that, given the fact that Marinette is practically steaming with humiliation and she  _ smells _ like it, smells of sex and perspiration and he’s still feeling antsy, his thoughts bent on imagining all of the things he could do to her once they’ve closed the front door of their apartment behind them. Eyeing the smeared come on her thighs, he’s reminded of a particular kink that both of them share when they’re protected by their masks, one they’ve indulged in time and time again in every arrondissement at least a hundred times over. Licking his lips, he wonders if Marinette shares the same desires as her alter-ego, the desire to see and be seen, bare and vulnerable for anyone to notice. He decides it’s high time he found out, which is how Marinette finds herself pressed against the walls of their seventh floor apartment, her shopping bag of lingerie forgotten on the doormat.

“Adrien,” she gasps between kisses, each and every caress rougher than the last, “Adrien, what’s... _ ah _ !...what’s gotten into you today?”

He runs his fingers through her hair and pulls gently, exposing the pale expanse of her neck, “I want to fuck you.”

Marinette’s heartbeat begins to race, the blush on her cheeks spreading down from her face to her shoulders and breasts. She vividly remembers the other times he’d taken control of her, like that evening a few months back when he’d gagged her with his tie to keep her silent at his father’s autumn gala. Her centre starts throbbing as she recalls how he’d taken her from behind with the knowledge that anyone could have caught them at any moment, rough and ruthless and…

_ Fuck _ , she’d been fantasising about it ever since.

“Are you...can you use the tie again?” Marinette stammers and her demeanour changes, her expression suddenly nervous. She reaches for him as he steps back, her hands unsteady as she gets a hold of his coat.

Smirking, Adrien intervenes and grabs her by the wrists, “You liked that last time, didn’t you?” he remarks, tugging her towards their bedroom. She follows obediently and nods, drawing a shaky breath when he deposits her on their bed. He opens the door to his closet and makes a show of choosing a tie, purposely plucking some of his least favourites from the rail. He settles on two of them, all gifts from his father, and lays them on the mattress beside her, “Up.”

Marinette stands and follows him towards the enormous bedroom window where she stops at his command, “Now, spread your legs.”

She blinks but doesn’t argue, pausing only for a second before toeing off her Louboutin stilettos. He stops her before she can get the other one off though, and orders her to keep them on.

“But—”

“Don’t argue,” he interrupts, slipping back behind her. He waits until she’s slid the shoe back on before adjusting her gait himself, urging her inner thighs open with his fingers so she'll spread herself farther apart, “That’s better. You'll be quiet for me, won't you?”

Marinette takes a deep breath and nods her head, closing her eyes as he wraps the _ Gabriel  _ silk tie around her neck. He lifts it to her lips with deft fingers and slides the fabric between her teeth, tying the two ends into a knot behind her head so as to effectively gag her and force her silence.

“Now, lift your skirt so I can see you.”

Her hands shaking, she reaches down and pulls on the zipper of her skirt and, wriggling ever so slightly, hefts it up until it bunches around her waist. Her face is burning crimson but she does as she’s told regardless, her pussy exposed to anyone who might glance up or across through the huge bedroom window.

“Remove your shirt and bra.”

Marinette hesitantly begins to undo the buttons of her blouse, slowly working her way downwards until she reaches the fabric of her skirt. She swallows thickly as she slips the cashmere from her shoulders, exposing her bra to the open window, and reaches back to unfasten the clasp.

Awaiting instructions, Marinette stands there for several minutes, nearly naked and exposed to her neighbours should they decide to look out. She counts each and every open balcony and window as the sun disappears behind the cityscape and her thighs begin to shake with the effort of standing with her feet so wide apart, her mind reeling and her muscles aching. She keeps still and tries not to fidget as he circles her, shucking his shirt from his frame as he admires the view.

“Touch your breasts,” he instructs her, casually sitting down on the upholstered armchair to the left of window. She palms the sensitive skin and takes each nipple between her thumb and forefinger, pressing down and pinching them just the way she likes, “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”

Marinette keens silently at the praise and closes her eyes, her entire body shivering with need. She continues to touch herself as the Christmas lights begin to twinkle from the street below and she barely refrains from moaning, the strip of fabric wedged between her teeth a foreboding reminder of the consequences should she make a sound. Shuddering, she obeys as he instructs her to reach down and rub her clit and she keeps her eyes blissfully closed, her lower lips slick with arousal as she moves her fingers at a frantic pace.

“Do not come until I tell you,” he warns and Marinette nods, slowing down ever so slightly to keep herself from falling over the edge. Adrien shifts in his seat, his jeans becoming less and less comfortable as she arches her spine, her breasts jutting proudly in front of her. Beads of sweat begin to form on her brow and collarbones at the exertion and concentration required to keep herself in such a position, her breath coming in rasps as rivulets of arousal begin to trickle down her thighs. He stands back up and lets his jeans and briefs drop to the floor, stepping out of them as he walks back towards the bed.

“Enough,” he orders, and Marinette barely refrains from whining as she forces her fingers to stop moving, her body desperate for release. She shifts back and forth, her thighs aching as he approaches her from behind and takes both wrists into his hands, crossing them at the base of her spine. Using the second silk tie he’d plucked from the mattress, he binds her wrists together and presses his palm to her shoulder blades, forcing her to bend over. 

Stepping back, he walks around her and thinks about what it would be like to lick the length of her body like this, her pert breasts quivering with exertion, her pussy and ass perfectly accessible and exposed. He thinks about running his lips along the crease of her thighs, thinks about burying his tongue in her centre, thinks about sucking her clit until she collapses beneath him. He thinks about how he’d fuck her after, how he’d pull on the gag in her mouth each time he buries himself to the hilt, forcing her back to arch as she squirms around his cock.

Panting, Marinette readjusts her position as he spirals ever closer, shifting her weight impatiently. She can feel the whimper bubbling at the back of her throat and she squeezes her eyes closed tightly, silently begging him to fuck her  _ pleasepleaseplease _ —

The way she moves, shifting longingly from side to side in her stilettos, is all it takes really, his cock already rock hard and leaking. He slides two fingers into her pussy and pumps them in and out quickly, rotating his wrist with each and every rapid stroke. Even without leverage, Marinette tries to meet each thrust, her breath haggard around the gag between her teeth and  _ fuck, _ she is so close, so close somehow even though he’s barely touched her and her thighs are screaming and all she needs, all she needs is for him to reach around and touch her clit with his other hand and—

He stops so abruptly that Marinette almost falls over when he pulls his fingers out of her centre, grabbing her hips and drawing her near. He hesitates for a moment as a thought passes over him, errant and impulsive and he acts on it, lifting her ever so slightly so as to move her more easily. He takes two steps and pushes her up against the window, her face and breasts pressed lewdly against the glass and thrusts inside of her with one smooth stroke, his eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of her walls pulsating around him.

She gasps in surprise, the contrast of the freezing glass against her bare skin and the heat of his body behind her suddenly overwhelming. Her head flies back with the force of his cock and he slips his fingers between the knot of her gag and her hair, lightly wrenching the gag backwards with each and every thrust. Her neck is exposed, her eyes screwed shut in pleasure/pain as he continues to fuck her at a breakneck pace, bottoming out again and again as he pounds into her and he snakes his hand around her body, clipping her clit with his fingernails.  

“Come for me,” he growls and the dam is suddenly breaking, her body thrashing in the throes of one of the most powerful orgasms Adrien can ever remember watching. The way she’s squirming beneath him only encourages him, her walls clenching around his cock, the pressure urging him to go faster, the slap of his skin on hers the only sound beyond the small, pathetic mewls she's making as she comes down from her high, still smashed against the window. 

Taking his free hand away from her clit and using it for leverage, Adrien grabs her hips and focuses on the heated clench of her pussy and comes apart inside of her, shattering and growling and  _ god _ , does it ever feel good like this, being with her, controlling, calling the shots. He thrusts into her one last time and lets his release wash over him, lightening bright and incredibly intense, the red hot sensation rocketing all the way down to his toes and back again.

An indeterminate period of time passes before Adrien finally comes back to himself, stepping back and pulls out of her, unfastening her wrists and gag. She’s shaking, her legs quivering beneath her and Adrien is glad that their bed is so near, pulling her along with him until they collapse into the sheets. She shucks the stilletos and skirt off to the side and moulds herself to his body, sighing as he begins to stroke her hair.

He takes a shaky breath, his voice small and uncertain, “Was that...alright?”

Marinette nods and closes her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper, “Yes.”

“You sure?” he asks, cupping her chin with his hand and gently lifting her face until he’s able to look into her eyes again.

“Mmm,” Marinette blinks slowly, blithe and satisfied, “Every once and a while, it’s nice to change things up.”

Adrien seems to relax at the conformation and wraps his arms around her, doing his best to melt into the mattress, “Change is good.”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...what did you think? Is this something you'd like to see more of? Maybe dom!Marinette is a little more your thing? Let me know in the comments, as your comments and opinions will have a _direct effect_ on Masquerade's sequel, just an fyi. You've been warned.
> 
> Merry Christmas! I'll see you on the 26th for some ice skating shenanigans!
> 
> ~Bronte


	23. Mistletoe (MariChat pt4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 23: Mistletoe.  
> Chapters preceding this: 1, 8, 9
> 
> All he wanted was a kiss under the mistletoe - as Chat _or_ Adrien. Too bad he didn't think his plan through.
> 
> For the amazing **SaijSpellhart,** who basically sat there and threw ideas at me until something stuck. She wanted to see something MariChat, where Chat Noir was doing his level best to get Marinette under the mistletoe - no matter which version of him she had to kiss - and utterly failing in his endeavor.

By the time Chat got to Marinette’s apartment that night, he was officially over mistletoe. And cheese. He was so over cheese. He’d spent half the day switching between being Chat Noir and Adrien, and Plagg had seen the opportunity to demand obscene amounts of his favorite treat and had taken it like the opportunistic little bastard he was.

_“You’re going to be switching back and forth no less than_ five times. _I can’t handle all of that without sustenance!” Plagg whined pitifully, complete with dramatic fake dead antics as he collapsed onto the coffee table in pretend exhaustion._

_“I cannot carry around a cooler full of cheese.” Adrien pointed out, annoyed. “Really, I can’t.”_

_“Don’t carry it.” Plagg argued. “Just stash it somewhere!”_

_“Stop being a drama queen.” Adrien frowned._

_“Stop being demanding!” Plagg rebutted, ignoring Adrien’s indignant sputtering. “Besides, you’re going to want to go see your ‘Princess’ tonight, aren’t you? I need energy for that, too.”_

_“You don’t know that.” Adrien grumbled defensively, crossing his arms._

_“You strung mistletoe_ all over _that room.” Plagg said flatly. “No way you’re going through that much effort to kiss her in public, and not going to visit her afterwards. You want sex? Fine. I want cheese.”_

In the end, Adrien had stashed a cooler of cheese in a hall closet. The party was really a charity thing, hosted by Mayor Bourgeois, to help fund the city’s improved anti-akuma security measures. Since _Gabriel_ was a major sponsor, he’d been pressed into attendance, despite also being required to attend as Chat Noir. So Adrien had spent the night running back and forth, switching between guises. 

And he hadn’t caught Marinette under the mistletoe in _either_ one of them. As a mid-level designer, her part in the event had been rather small - really, she was there because her designs were increasingly catching his father’s eye. Adrien knew that Gabriel wanted her there to see how she handled the sensitive and oftentimes fickle politicians, businessmen and various philanthropists. 

The short answer was: she did fine. _More_ than fine, really, and Adrien wasn’t just saying that because he liked her. His father had tasked him with evaluating her interactions (which had been hampered by his random absences), but he hadn’t been the only one watching her. A few upper-level managers and Nathalie were all observing her as well.

And yet, despite being near her more than half the night as either Adrien or Chat Noir, and despite having snuck in and strung up about fifteen bunches of mistletoe around the room, he hadn’t managed to catch her under even one. He’d been caught by a few staff members, several patrons, Chloe, and even Nathalie at one point (which had been totally and unfairly awkward). But no Marinette.

He blamed Plagg.

So by the time he landed on her balcony and saw the sprig of mistletoe hanging in his path, he’d been completely ready to shred it, purely out of spite. It hung innocently just inside her balcony door, at the quasi-intersection of the kitchen and dining area (there was no way it could be called a dining room). There was literally no way to go around it without crawling over the table.

“Is something wrong, Kitty?” The tone tried for innocent but fell short, landing squarely in Amused territory. The smug smirk curling one side of her mouth and the knowing gleam in her eyes did absolutely nothing to help.

“I hate mistletoe.” Chat huffed, crossing his arms in irritation.

“Do you really?” Marinette’s eyebrow crept upwards. “Because there was an awful lot of it strung around the room today.”

“What makes you think I had anything to do with that?” Chat demanded.

“True.” Marinette nodded. “Except...I know who was the lead on organizing that event, and she never would have approved it. So that means that somebody had to sneak in.”

“This isn’t narrowing your suspect pool.” Chat pointed out.

“Sure it does.” Marinette said confidently. “There’s very few people who could sneak in, hang mistletoe, and do so without fearing Nathalie Sancoeur’s wrath. I don’t think Gabriel Agreste did it, and there’s no way Chloe would go to the effort - she may still be chasing Adrien, but she wouldn’t put herself out like that.”

“So who did it, detective?” Chat snorted. “Professor Plum in the Library?”

“With the candlestick.” Marinette nodded. “But really, that just leaves you, or Adrien himself. And I don’t think Adrien did it.”

“Aw,” Chat batted his eyes, “you don’t think your sweet, pure sunshine child would play such a trick? He’s too sweet and well-behaved for such subterfuge?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that cake is a lie: Adrien’s biggest trick is getting people to think he’s too sweet and innocent to pull something like that. He would absolutely do it, just to watch everyone squirm, while he sat there looking like a sweet little cinnamon roll.”

“You have such a high opinion of him.” Chat deadpanned. “And this still isn’t telling me why he didn’t do it and I apparently _did.”_

“I’ve known him since we were children.” Marinette said dryly. “And I do have a high opinion of him: he’s a wonderful person. But I am _telling_ you, his best con is getting everyone to think he’s some kind of sweet, biddable labrador.”

“Again, not telling me why I did it.” Chat huffed.

“One, because you’re Chat-fucking-Noir. No other reason necessary.” Marinette said dryly, ticking her points off on her fingers. “And two, Adrien has no _motive._ He doesn’t have a girlfriend - or boyfriend - and he isn’t interested in anybody, so sayeth his best bro. Ergo, you, Chat Noir, are my prime suspect.”

“Do you know how many middle-aged women wearing too much perfume I had to kiss?” Chat demanded. “And giggly interns? And random members of the press? I had to fend off, like, _thirty people.”_

“Poor little kitten.” Marinette cooed. “Didn’t think his plan through.”

“I still have perfume clogging my nose.” Chat whined.

“Should’ve given it more thought.” Marinette said unsympathetically. “You should have _known_ you’d have every fangirl in attendance trying to get a piece of you.”

“But I wanted a piece of _you_.” Chat protested.

“In public. At a charity event. With the press.” Marinette raised an eyebrow skeptically. 

“I just wanted a kiiisssss….” Chat whined. 

“The same cute little peck you gave everyone who didn’t ambush you and try to tackle you?” Marinette’s lips quirked.

“Sure.” Chat folded his arms crossly. “Absolutely. I’d have been okay with that.”

“You’re a filthy liar.” Marinette said dryly.

“Still wanted a kiss.” Chat refuted, pouting and pointing at his lips with a clawed finger. Even his ears flattened in disgruntlement. 

“Because there was no way that could have backfired on you - badly.” Marinette frowned.

“The Nargles made me do it.” Chat said flatly.

“Is that how you’re going to play it?” Marinette raised an eyebrow skeptically, but her lips were twitching.

“It’s the only excuse. What was I thinking?” Chat muttered. “At least Adrien got mauled as badly as I did.”

“How would you know?” Marinette asked. “I never saw the two of you anywhere near each other.”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t see him.” Chat sniffed.

“So when we meet for lunch tomorrow, I can tell him _you_ were responsible for his suffering?” Marinette asked dryly.

“Sure. Whatever. We can cry on each other’s shoulders.” Chat mumbled. “I never want to see mistletoe again.”

“Oh?” Marinette blinked, pursing her lips thoughtfully as she pushed back from the table and stood up. “That’s too bad. I guess I’ll just go take down the bunch I hung above my bed then.”

“...Wait, what?”

 

Chat groaned, pressing kisses along the ankle resting on his shoulder as he thrust into her. Two fingers were rubbing circles against her exposed clit, his other hand gripping her hip, fingers digging into the curve of her ass as rode the thigh trapped between his own spread legs. He was thrusting into her hard enough to make her breasts bounce as he bottomed out into her wet heat.

Not that Marinette was complaining. In fact, she seemed to be _loving_ how deep he was getting, mewling and panting with every thrust. The hand not trapped underneath her was at her breast, pinching the nipple roughly as he slammed against her.

Chat was loving it, too. In his humble opinion, this position was one they should do more often. Not that sex wasn’t always enjoyable, made more so because he was with Marinette, but the angle was different; not only the pressure applied to his cock, but his lover was completely exposed to him. He could _watch_ himself slid into her, a sight which only did _more_ to heighten the sense of eroticism and play. And even though the damnable blindfold was in place, he could watch her reactions when he thrust into her, or played with her clit. The way her mouth would hang open, lower lip quivering with stuttering moans as she got closer to release.

And she was close: he could feel her walls tightening around him even as his balls drew up, clenching in preparation for his own orgasm. He could hear in in the way the noises were climbing the octaves, see it as her fingers pinched and pulled roughly on her breast.

Impulsively, he let go of her hip, drawing his fingers lightly up the inside of her leg, across the back of her knee and down her calf as he pressed his lips against the skin closest to him. Marinette let go of her breast, hand dropping to clutch at the sheet beneath her as she writhed, spine curving, mouth opening on a cry. The calf muscles under his hand tensed, her inner walls tightening to an almost punishing degree even as a rush of wetness engulfed him. 

The distinctly wet sound, coupled with the pressure around his cock and the sight of his lover falling apart beneath him tipped Chat over the edge. He slammed into her with short, hard trusts as hot come jettisoned out explosively into her. His hand flexed, fingers digging into the skin of her calf, losing their rhythm against her clit as his own release consumed him. 

As he came suddering down from his high, Marinette’s leg slipped off his shoulder. She rotated onto her back, reaching out and opening her arms, and Chat tumbled gratefully into her embrace. He had enough sense to not topple his full weight onto her, bracing on his forearms, shoulder blades pressing together as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, panting. 

Her arms wrapped around him, surrounding him in warmth. Her fingers came up to weave though his hair, rubbing soothing circles against his scalp as she pressed gentle kisses to his temple. In response, he nuzzled against her neck, feeling his cock jump in automatic response, even though there was no way he was going to orgasm again any time soon.

_I love you._ It was there, hovering between them, unspoken as always. Like a taboo, a line that shouldn’t be crossed. _Couldn’t_ be crossed. Not yet.

“I fucking love mistletoe.” He mumbled instead, pressing kisses up her neck.

“I thought you might have a change of heart.” She giggled.

“Hard to be too upset when someone covers you in kisses.” Chat sighed, nuzzling under her ear.

Marinette sniggered. “Even grabby, middle-aged ladies with too much perfume?”

“Don’t ruin it for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I thought these two would _never_ shut up. 
> 
> Up Next: The exciting conclusion of Santa Baby


	24. Christmas Eve (Adrinette pt3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 24: Christmas Eve
> 
> Finally, the Santa Baby finale! This one isn't _exactly_ a lemon, but it is citrusy. Like a lime.

Marinette had been antsy all day. She was trying not to show it, but the sidelong looks Adrien were giving her said she wasn’t succeeding. Neither were Plagg’s eyerolls or Tikki’s giggles. 

Still, she’d made it through the day, including lunch with Gabriel, who had made time in his schedule to have a meal with his son before departing. Gifts were exchanged, and it was exactly as awkward as Marinette had thought it would be. Luckily, Adrien had long since gotten over his father’s… _detached_ parenting methods (well, mostly) and was able to find amusement in it.

“So...what do you want to do with the wine glasses?” Adrien asked, starting the car as she twisted to set the box into the backseat. 

“We could give them to Nino and Alya.” Marinette suggested. 

“We gave them the last set.” Adrien shook his head as they pulled out of the drive. “Maybe mom and dad?”

“My parents don’t drink that much wine.” Marinette shrugged.

“Are they even French?” Adrien mused.

“You do realize my mom is in fact not French, right?” Marinette asked, amused.

“That’s only half an excuse.” Adrien quipped. “Okay, fine. How about Chloe and Nath?”

“That could work.” Marinette nodded. “She certainly does enough entertaining.”

“Bonus: we wouldn’t even have to play it off like we bought them.” Adrien said. “We could just tell her that my dad bought us a _third_ set and she’d be amused as hell.”

“She absolutely would be.” Marinette agreed. “She’d probably serve him with the wine glasses, and make a remark about Nathalie’s good taste if he compliments them.”

“Sold.” Adrien said happily. “Let’s just swing by there on the way home, yes?”

“Lets.” Marinette nodded, but then hummed thoughtfully. “Though to be fair, I don’t think Nathalie purchased those glasses. She’d probably remember getting us the same set for a third time, right?”

“I got a pen for five consecutive birthdays.” Adrien shrugged. “Except, you know, for that one birthday where she totally forgot and pawned your gift off as dad’s.”

“Yeah, no time to buy a pen that year.” Marinette hummed. “Okay, point. Let’s go visit Chloe.”

 

Visiting Chloe was always a good distraction, but by the time mid-afternoon rolled around, Marinette was back to fidgeting. Adrien was pulling the last batch of cookies out of the oven with Tikki hovering excitedly over his shoulder, and Marinette was sitting in the living room with her sketchbook on her lap, trying to draw pieces for the next fall line (ideas were due in four weeks, anyway). 

It wasn’t working for her. Instead, her pages were filled with little rompers and dresses, beanies and bows and onesies covering the margins as she created and coordinated outfits for an infant.

“You’re completely failing at this.” Plagg said dryly, watching her add a satin ribbon onto a tiny little dress. A coordinating vest was doodled off to the side for a fashionable father-daughter combo, but Marinette was toying with the idea for a similar pattern for a father-son combination. Not _matching,_ but with enough details to show-

“If he comes over here, your little surprise is dead in the water.” Plagg pointed out ruthlessly.

_“Stop,_ Plagg.” Marinette whined softly, closing her sketchbook with a sigh. “I’m excited, okay?”

“So _tell him.”_ Plagg said.

“We were going to exchange presents with Mama and Papa tonight.” Marinette said. “I was going to tell him then.”

“Tell him _now,”_ Plagg rebutted, “and then the two of you can announce it _together_ later.”

“...That could work.” Marinette mused. “I could do that.”

“It would be the better plan anyway.” Plagg said. “You know Gabe won’t give him the reaction he wants, but your parents will.”

“You just want to watch him freak out.” Marinette sniffed.

“Of course I do.” Plagg frowned. “I’ve had to listen to every anxious ramble and concern for the past _year:_ I’ve earned this. That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“True.” Marinette said dryly. “If anything, Gabriel would probably ask him to make sure it’s a boy, and would want to discuss hypothetical modeling schedules for modeling children’s clothing.”

“That’s how you’ll know he’s excited: Gabriel doesn’t make children’s clothing.” Plagg said wryly. Marinette sniggered. “Seriously though, just go tell him.”

“And thus the God of Destruction becomes the Voice of Reason.” Marinette sighed, setting aside her sketchbook and pushing herself up, taking a moment to admire the pretty little tree with it’s multi-colored lights and mismatched ornaments, and the fire crackling cheerfully in the fireplace. 

Next year, they would hang a “Baby’s 1st Christmas” ornament for their new son or daughter, and it would join the other milestone ornaments they had collected or been gifted over the years. Marinette couldn’t stop the grin that stretched her lips at the thought - she could hardly wait. Invigorated, Marinette bounced into the kitchen, winding her arms around her husband’s middle and pressing her cheek to his back.

“Let’s open presents.”

“Okay?” Adrien twisted to look at her over his shoulder. “I thought we were going to do that tonight? With your parents?”

“I changed my mind.” Marinette said, using her arms to turn him away from the counter and push him towards the living room as Tikki giggled behind them. “I can’t wait any more.”

“Somebody’s eager.” Adrien laughed. “You want to see your gift?”

“Yes.” Marinette said. “Absolutely. Plagg said it was good, and I want it right now.”

“Plagg!” Adrien tried to scowl at the little kawmi, who didn’t flinch at being unexpectedly thrown under the bus.

“What?” He drawled. “I didn’t tell her what it was.”

“You’re such a brat.” Adrien said mildly as he fished a small box out from under the tree. “Why do I take you to buy gifts with me, again?”

“Um, because you literally cannot leave me behind? I don’t know.” Plagg yawned, drifting up to the mantelpiece, completely unconcerned with his chosen’s half-hearted annoyance. Tikki zipped over to him, handing him a cookie as she settled in next to him.

Marinette dug under the tree, pulling out the box and card she’d tucked in the back. Grinning, she sat on the floor in front of the fireplace and traded boxes with him. Adrien lifted the box, eyeing the card on top of it. Shaking it gently, he raised an eyebrow at her. 

“It’s awfully light.” He said, quirking at eyebrow at her.

Marinette raised her box, narrowing her eyes in response. “It’s awfully small.”

“Small boxes hold big things.” Adrien said, drawing himself up in mock-solemnity. 

If her grin got any wider, it would probably break her face. “So do light ones.”

“Okay, okay,” Adrien laughed, “go ahead and open yours first.”

Giggling, Marinette tore off the paper, sliding the small box out and lifting the lid. Plagg hadn’t _actually_ told her what Adrien had gotten her, so her amazed gasp was entirely genuine. Effectively distracted, she reverently, she pulled out the early-twentieth century art deco style cocktail ring. Pierced white gold was shaped into a delicate marquise, scrolls and fans delicately etched into the surface and surrounding a glittering diamond.

“Oh my _God,”_ She mumbled, sliding it onto her finger. “It’s _gorgeous.”_

“I thought you might like it.” Adrien grinned. “Now what did you get me?”

Marinette snapped the ring box closed and set it aside. Above her, Tikki and Plagg both leaned over to watch.

“Card first, or box?” Adrien teased.

“Ahh…” Marinette bit her lip. “Either one. Both of them. Just open something!”

“Man, someone is eager.” Adrien laughed and picked up the envelope. “Does this count as two presents or-”

Adrien’s face went slack as he pulled out the card. _Merry Christmas Daddy!_ was scrawled across the front in bright, childish font. Adrien’s eyes snapped up to hers, some expression she couldn’t quite decipher lurking in them.

“Are you..?”

“Open it.” Marinette grinned. 

Adrien fumbled with the card, pulling out the sheet of paper enclosed and unfolding it. Brows furrowing as he read.

“The hCG numbers are a little high, so I might be further along than what’s projected on the paper.” Marinette said in a rush. “But, they’re there, so..”

“You’re pregnant.” Adrien breathed.

“I am.” Marinette nodded.

“I’m going to be a father.” Adrien’s eyes were suspiciously shiny.

“You are. Next August.” Marinette’s grin softened. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

Adrien’s grin could only be described as _dopey:_ Marinette only had time for the absent thought that Plagg was gonna tease the hell out of him later before she found herself summarily hauled into her husband’s lap. His laugh was watery as he peppered kisses across across her face, but her eyes were kind of blurry too, so all she did was laugh and kiss him back.

“Plagg! Tikki!” Adrien beamed up at the two tiny kwami perched on the mantelpiece. “Did you hear? I’m going to be a dad.”

“I know! Oh, it’s so exciting! Congratulations, both of you!” Tikki trilled enthusiastically, beaming right back at them. There was a moment’s hesitation, then she reached out and nudged Plagg.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard.” Plagg drawled, rolling his eyes. A pause, and his mouth quirked to the side, voice softening infinitesimally. “Congrats, kid.”

Adrien’s smile could have lit up the room. Marinette swallowed the lump in her throat (damn hormones), and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you.”

“Gods, I love you too.” Adrien murmured, turning his head and capturing her lips. “So much.”

Marinette tilted her head, fingers tangling in the hairs at the nape of his neck as she deepened the kiss. Adrien’s lips parted easily under hers, pulling her closer as her tongue curled past his teeth. His hands tightened on her waist, and Marinette broke off, pulling back and shifting until she was straddling his lap. 

“Mari…” He murmured, tone reproving, but his hands were already reaching for her. “We have to be at your parent’s house in an hour.”

“Then be quick.” Marinette replied, nipping his bottom lip as her fingers raked his scalp.

“Marinette.” Adrien huffed.

“Your mouth says no, but your hands say yes.” Marinette teased as his fingers slid down the waistband of her stretchy yoga pants to grip her ass. “Which is it, Handsome?”

“You’re incorrigible.” Adrien frowned, but his lips were chasing hers as she pulled back, reaching down and yanking her shirt over her head. She tossed it carelessly towards the couch, smirking as his eyes went straight to her breasts.

“So?” She asked, unsnapping her bra and tugging it off. “What’s it gonna be?”

Adrien whined in the back of his throat before leaning forward, catching one dark pink nipple in his mouth as he felt himself growing hard in the confines of his jeans. The signs of her pregnancy were there, now that he knew what to look for. Things he’d noticed, but hadn’t really paid attention to. Her breasts seemed fuller, the nipples slightly darker. The afternoon naps that he’d associated with a sleepy bug being sleepy in winter. 

His hand came up, testing the weight of her other breast in his hand, cupping it as he tweaked the nipple. Marinette groaned and arched into him, pressing closer even as her nails dug into the muscle underneath his collar.

A father. Him. They’d been trying for so long, hoping for so long - the reality of it was unbelievable. He’d always liked children, always wanted a large family despite his own upbringing, or perhaps because of it. They’d never settled on an exact number of children: his stance of “as many as you’ll give me” kind of conflicted with her more practical “let’s see how we do with the first one.” The only point they’d totally agreed on was that they didn’t want children with anyone else.

He let go of her breasts to let her tug his shirt off. Leaning forward, he gripped her shoulders as he rolled forward, lowering them both the the floor. The sudden thought of her, round with their child, a little piece of her and him, a tiny representation of how much they loved each other, was intensely arousing. He’d never really considered it before, but now…now he couldn’t wait to see it.

“I love you.” He murmured, kissing his way down her body, over her breasts and ribs and stomach, hooking her waistband and tugging it down as her fingers tangled in his hair. “I love you.”

The grip in his hair changed from tight and teasing to soft and caressing, rubbing gentle circles on his scalp. Adrien glanced up, confused, only to find Marinette smiling at him, soft and happy.

“I love you, too.”

 

_Bonus Scene:_  
“Ugh.” Plagg muttered crossly. “His phone is in the kitchen.”

“So go get it.” Tikki shrugged, glancing around and spotting Marinette’s phone charging on the dresser.

“No way am I going back out there.” Plagg said sourly. “It’s gonna be a T&A show.”

“You’re such a romantic, Plagg.” Tikki said dryly, unlocking her chosen’s phone with a swipe of her arm and pulling up the messaging app.

“What are you doing, anyway?” Plagg asked suspiciously.

“Texting Sabine to let her know Marinette and Adrien will be late. I think an hour will be long enough.” Tikki said placidly, perching on the edge of the dresser. Curious, Plagg sat beside her, watching tiny paws moving over the keypad with surprising efficiency. 

“They don’t need to leave for forty-five minutes. Do you really think this will take that long?” Plagg asked, appalled. 

Tikki paused to look at him. 

“Plagg.” She said slowly. “They’re a young couple, in love, who just found out they’re having their first child together. They are making love by firelight, in front of a lit Christmas tree. _It does not get any more cliche than this._ So _yes,_ this will take longer than twenty-odd minutes.”

Still staring him down, she slapped the ‘send’ button.

“And if you do anything to interrupt them because you want to play Words With Friends, so help me I will end you.” She finished.

“Yeah?” Plagg asked curiously. 

“I’ll tell Marinette how her last sketchbook really fell out of the window.” Tikki said seriously.

“That’s cold, Tik.” Plagg muttered, tearing his gaze away with a sigh. “Man, I thought we were _past_ this.”

“Past what?” Tikki asked curiously, diverted from her threats against his person.

“The sex.” Plagg pouted. 

“Why would you think we were _past_ it?” Tikki asked, baffled. 

“Because she’s pregnant.” Plagg scowled. “Mission accomplished. They’ve been practicing making babies since they were _teenagers._ We’ve had to deal with them actually _trying_ to make a baby for the past twelve months. _Twelve.”_

“Uh-huh.” Tikki said blankly. “And?”

“And what?” Plagg shrugged. “Clearly all that practice didn’t make them very efficient, but they still managed it. So why are they still going at it like rabbits? She can’t get _more_ pregnant; they’ll have to wait until this one is done cooking before they can try to make another. So what’s the point of sex _now?”_

Rolling her eyes, Tikki reached out and shoved him off the dresser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Don't let the sarcasm and gruff fool you - Plagg is a total softie. Also, he knows darn well that sex isn't just about procreation with humans, but he likes messing with everyone, and Tikki isn't an exception to that.
> 
> 2\. Obviously Gabe either isn't Papillion or the situation has been resolved in a peaceful manner. Idk. I do think that, for someone who has no earthly idea how to deal with people and their messy feelings, making baby clothes would be his way of being excited. Kind of 'I can't offer you the emotional response you're looking for, but I can show my happiness in other ways.'
> 
> 3\. Marinette is due in August, which makes the baby a Leo. Once they realize this, neither Adrien nor Plagg will _never_ stop calling that kid a Kitten. Will she make it through the whole 40 weeks, though? Who knows: since she only got the confirmation blood draw and hasn't had the first ultrasound, she doesn't know that her hCG numbers are high not because she's further along than estimated, but because it's twins.
> 
> 4\. What was in the box? Headcannon says that Marinette made two little baby onesies, one ladybug patterned that says "Mommy's Lucky Charm" and one black one with little green paw prints that says "I _Cat_ aclysm'd my parent's sleep schedule." With little matching hats. The black one has tiny kitten ears. Because _adorable._
> 
> Up next: The last planned chapter of the MariChat arc!


	25. Merry Christmas (MariChat5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 25: Merry Christmas!  
> Final piece of the MariChat arc!

By the time Chat crawled in Marinette’s window - or, rather, wandered in off her balcony - he was bone-deep _tired._

December was an exhausting month in general. Fashion Week had been the first week (and God, who thought that would be a good idea?), followed by the usual run of fittings for the summer line and photoshoots for the spring one. Adrien had spent more time than should be legal shivering in seasonally-inappropriate clothing for the sake of “art.”

Then of course there had been the social obligations. Both the kind he wanted to go to - like Nino’s party - and the ones where he spent the night wishing he were anywhere else, such as any _Gabriel_ label or Bourgeois related. Of course, there were also his obligations as Chat Noir; social events were somehow a must, and more than a few akuma had cropped up as well.

Finally, their was the emotional baggage of the season. Christmas had felt so _empty_ since his mother had disappeared, leaving Adrien to watch his Father retreat further and further away. Most of the year, he could deal with it, but watching all of the happy families during the holidays, and having to go home to a empty mansion and an indifferent father never failed to leave him feeling hollow and wrung out.

He shouldn’t have really been surprised when some kind of model-related scandal in London called his Father away on Christmas Eve, but there was always that sliver of hope. Gabriel had promised him dinner together, and they would exchange gifts after. 

Returning home after a photo shoot to find he’d already departed had been a rude shock, though Adrien wasn’t sure why. It really shouldn’t have been. Nonetheless, Adrien had pushed his dinner around his plate for a while before retreating to his room. He’d eyed the present sitting on his coffee table for all of thirty seconds before calling for Plagg and bolting out the window. 

Really, he wasn’t even sure why he still lived with his Father. He was 24, perfectly capable of living on his own. Still, living there was convenient, and Gabriel had never made mention of him leaving. And if he lived there, he at least got to see his Father once in a while, even if it was just a glimpse or a terse conversation in the foyer. 

Maybe it was time to cut the cord. He’d thought so more than once, his friends had hesitantly suggested it, and Nino had gone so far as to suggest getting an apartment together. He’d resisted, telling himself that it was easier to come and go as Chat if he didn’t have an interested room mate. That his room in the Agreste mansion had everything he could want, plus a cook and a maid. It would be ludicrous to give that up, right?

Maybe this year, Chat thought wearily as he slid open Marinette’s unlocked door and slipped inside, he’d finally cut the cord. He was the only one tied to it, anyway.

“Chat?” Marinette was lounging on the couch, illuminated only by the flickering light of the television as it played a local sitcom. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until the twenty-sixth?”

“I…” Chat began, but realized he didn’t have anything to say, really. “I just...wanted to visit.”

Marinette sat up, frowning at him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Chat shook his head. “I can’t just want to see my favorite princess?”

“You’re deflecting.” Marinette said baldly. “But that’s okay: come here.”

Gratefully, Chat sank down onto her lumpy couch, sighing when she relaxed against him. He looped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer, wishing he could feel her warmth through the suit. Still, the familiar weight of her presence was soothing and they sat together idly watching the scenes play out across the television. 

“So, uh, what is this about?” Chat finally asked, gesturing at the television. 

Marinette shrugged. “I don’t actually know. There was nothing else on besides Christmas movies, and I’ve seen all of those, so…”

“Why are you even here?” Chat asked. “Shouldn’t you be with yo- your family, or something? Friends?”

Marinette shot him an odd look, but answered. “Well, Alya and Nino are visiting their families tonight, and Adrien is spending the evening with his dad. Besides, we got together earlier and exchanged presents.”

They had; Chat was secretly looking forward to being able to give her a second, more romantic present without arousing suspicion. As Adrien, anything of a romantic nature was off-limits, but Chat didn’t have such restrictions. And he’d learned years ago that even if he wanted to spoil his friends with extravagant gift (he could certainly afford it), doing so made them uncomfortable, because they were unable to reciprocate. It was quite a change from Chloe, who made no apology about her expectations.

“What about our family, Princess?” Chat asked.

“Bakers hours.” Marinette yawned. “Christmas Eve is actually a _really_ busy day for them - I think I helped them finish thirty Yule logs. I left at...seven, I think? We did an early dinner and I’ll go over tomorrow, but they nearly fell asleep in their dumplings, so I didn’t want to make them feel like they had to stay up with me.”

“So you came home to watch bad sitcoms?” Chat grinned. 

“Don’t judge me.” Marinette sniffed, before sliding him a sly glance out of the corner of her eye. “Besides, I may have been hoping for company.”

“Oh? Anyone in particular?” Chat asked innocently.

“Mm. There’s this stray that likes to hang around. I’ve been seeing him off and on since I was a child, actually. I fed him once,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper, “and he hasn’t left me alone since.”

“Sounds troublesome.” Chat mused. “What did you feed him?”

“Oh, you know, mostly day-old pastries and bread at first.” Marinette hummed. “It didn’t really seem to deter him.”

Chat snorted. As infrequently as he ate sugar and carbs, _hell no_ the day’s leftovers weren’t going to deter him.

“I did try to get rid of him.” Marinette continued solemnly. “Eventually, I resorted to cannibalism to try to drive him away.”

“You did _what?_ ” Chat laughed. “Princess, that doesn’t even make any sense.”

“Sure it does.” Marinette defended, tucking her legs up underneath her and crossing her arms, sniffing haughtily.

“How?” Chat shook his head. “How does that even make sense? What did you feed me that would have counted as _cannibalism?”_

Marinette twisted, eyes widening in feigned innocence as her lips twitched. “Are you telling me it _isn’t_ cannibalism if I give pussy to Chat Noir?”

Chat gaped at her for a second, before bursting into peals of raucous laughter. He laughed so hard his ribs hurt and he was out of breath, then glanced at Marinette’s grinning face and giggled some more. Marinette waited until his laughter had (mostly) subsided, twisting half-into his lap, propping her elbows on his shoulders and setting her chin atop her crossed wrists, their faces centimeters apart.

“If you were trying to chase me off, your method may have been a bit misguided.” He told her, lips still twitching rebelliously. 

“Darn.” Marinette deadpanned. “And here I thought I’d found a foolproof plan.”

“Nope. Sorry.” Chat smirked.

“Oh well,” Marinette sighed. “Guess I’ll just have to keep you then.”

Laughing softly, Chat leaned forward, capturing her lips with his. Her lips parted readily under the gentle pressure, and her wrists uncrossed, arms winding around his neck, fingers in his hair as she nipped playfully at his bottom lip. Growling, Chat hauled her into his lap, her leg sliding over as she straddled him, calves resting alongside his thighs, bracketing him in.

Chat gripped her waist, trying to be mindful of his claws as he pressed her down against him, letting her feel him harden beneath her. She made a satisfied noise deep in her throat, fingers twisting roughly in his hair as she tilted his head back. Her mouth was rough against his, her tongue sweeping in to stroke against his or curl behind his teeth, only to retreat so she could nip roughly at his lips or suckle on the skin of his neck as she held him immobile. 

His eyes squeezed shut, focusing on the feel of her teeth scraping against his skin. There would surely be marks later, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, because right now her mouth was on him, her fingernails scraping his scalp as she ground against him. His hips bucked, thigh muscles tensing as he pressed himself against her, trying to deepen the friction as her movements caused his suit to shift minutely against him, but it wasn’t enough. Frustrated, he groaned. 

“The blindfold is in my room.” Marinette whispered through increasingly frantic kisses, biting his earlobe and sucking hard as his hands yanked her shirt up.

“Okay.” Chat muttered, distracted as he pulled the shirt over her head. He pulled her up, lamentably off his crotch as he brought her naked breasts to his mouth, teeth closing around one pert pink nipple and worrying it lightly with his teeth. Marinette cried out, her hands returning to his hair as she pushed her chest further into his mouth. He obliged her, biting down a little harder as he shoved his hand down the elastic front of her lounge pants, mashing the pads of his fingers against the front of her panties and rubbing her clit vigorously.

Her grip in his hair was nearly painful, but he brought his other hand up, scraping her breast lightly and relishing the way she cried out as her hips bucked against his hand. 

“ _Ahhh,_ Chat.” She panted as he continued his ministrations. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna-”

“Good.” Chat interrupted her, sucking her nipple hard, laving it with his tongue as he pinched her clit through her underwear. His free hand slipped around her back, scratching gently down the exposed skin as Marinette arched into his mouth. Her head tipped back, lolling on her neck as she felt a rush of moisture coat her panties, her empty channel clenching down achingly on nothing.

“I want you.” She whined. “Gods, Chat...take me to bed.”

Chat was hauling her up as soon as the words were out of her mouth, pulling his hand out of her pants and releasing her breast with a wet pop, gripping her ass as he stood up. The casual strength of the motion send a fresh rush of desire shivering through her, coursing through her veins and lighting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, cupping his cheeks and attacking his face as he carried her through her small apartment and into her bedroom. 

“Close your eyes.” He demanded, dropping her onto the bed. “And get naked.”

Marinette didn’t bother to suppress the shudder that ran through her at his tone. One thing she had learned about Chat over the years was that her lover - her partner - was not a demanding man. He would ask, cajole, persuade, plead or occasionally beg, but usually Marinette was the one making demands. Chat only made demands when he was particularly worked up. She had never thought a demanding man would be a turn-on, but it happened so infrequently that it did anyway. 

Unceremoniously, she hooked her fingers in her waistband, shoving her pajama pants and underwear off, shivering at the feeling of her soaked panties pulling away from sensitive flesh. She could hear him mutter his release phrase, a flash of green sparking behind her closed eyes. The sound clothing rustling as she waited, naked, for him to come back to her. 

Her nightstand drawer opened and closed, and the bed dipped with his weight. 

“Get up.” He demanded, voice rough. “On your knees, face the headboard.”

Adrien watched as Marinette did as he told her. Legs spreading wide for him in the light from her window. Her pussy winked at him and he shuddered. He was _hard,_ beads of precome rolling slowly down his shaft as he gripped himself, pumping idly to ease the ache. Looking at the sleep mask in his hand, he set it aside; it was safe enough, he reasoned. She was facing away from him, and he trusted her not to peek.

Reaching out, he nudged her forward, pushing her pillows aside and instructing her to grab the headboard. Using his knees to widen her stance back out, he rubbed his cock along her slit, stirring up the moisture there and notching the crown of his dick to her entrance. He sheathed himself inside her in one hard thrust, shuddering as the wet heat of her squeezed around him and she cried out.

He leaned forward, gripping her hip as his hips snapped, pulling part way out, feeling the ambient air cool his heated flesh before he pushed back into her heat. Marinette moaned, and his arms slid around her, one hand pulling her against him under her breasts, the other traveling back down to her clit to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves there. He could feel the undersides of her tits brush his forearm as he thrust into her. His mouth latched onto the juncture of her neck and shoulder, biting down on the flesh and scraping his teeth over it as he sucked and she moaned. 

He wasn’t going to last much longer, but he didn’t want to. His hips were moving without conscious thought, slapping against her ass even as she moved to meet him, moaning as he head lolled to the side to give him better access. It wasn’t too much longer before he lost his rhythm, hands dropping to grip her hips as he slammed into her in mindless, disjointed pleasure as he groaned his release. 

“Sorry.” He muttered into her shoulder as he came back to himself. “You’re going to have a mark.”

“Good.” She panted, shuddering as she pressed back into him, whining and needy. “Now fuck me again.”

 

Sunlight streamed in through the window and smacked Marinette square in the face. Flinching, she buried her face into her pillow, yanking the covers up in a futile attempt to hide. She groaned when a weight stopped her from pulling the blanket over her head. Squinting her eyes open, Marinette scowled down at the blanket in question, which was partially clutched in the hand of Adrien Agreste. Annoyed, she reached out to push his hand away - why did he need so much blanket anyway? The damnable light wasn’t blinding him! - but as soon as her fingers touched flesh, her brain caught up with her eyes. 

And she screamed.

Adrien jerked backwards, eyes flying open as they darted around the room in shock.

“Wha-? What is it? What’s wrong? Mari- _Marinette!”_ He yelped, scrambling backwards, dragging the blanket with him.

The rush of cool air had her shivering, the shock somehow seemingly ruder for her accidental discovery. Realizing she’d pushed herself up onto her forearm, Marinette dropped, shoving her head under her pillow as she tried to tug the blanket back over her.

“I didn’t see anything!” She squeaked, panicking. “I did not see anything! I definitely did not see Adrien fucking Agreste naked in my bed. Nope. Nosiree.”

Clenching her eyes shut, Marinette pressed the pillow down around her ears and willed her mouth to _shut up._ The shocked silence continued for long enough that Marinette was half-convinced that maybe she actually had dreamt it all - maybe Chat Noir wasn’t _Adrien Agreste._ Only the dip of her bed and the way the blankets resisted when she tried to tug them back told her it may not bed. 

Then, a snort of laughter. 

“Oh my God, Marinette,” Chat - her lover, who was also _Adrien_ , her schoolgirl crush and longtime friend - said, “you are a _terrible_ liar.”

“I’m not lying.” Marinette pouted. “This is all a dream. I’m never eating American crisps again, they clearly do terrible things.”

Gently, the pillow was tugged off of her head and Marinette cracked one eye open to see Adrien staring down at her, a rueful smile tugging his lips. 

“...Merry Christmas?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had more, but ending it there was just too tempting to pass up. Their famalies are going to be _so confused_ at the speed with which their relationship progresses, don't you think? It'll be like "...So you had a crush on him when you were a kid, have been friends for years, started dating last week and are now moving in together? _What the hell??_ " (I am so easily entertained.)
> 
>  
> 
> **MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!!**
> 
>  
> 
> Next up: Bronte!


	26. Ice Skating (LadyNoir)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 26: Ice Skating by Bronte  
> Pairing: LadyNoir
> 
> I'm back sinners! I hope you all had a Merry Christmas with your friends and family!
> 
> Now, for the bad news. This chapter doesn't actually have any sex. They're roughly 15/16 in the story and I just couldn't do it, sorry. That being said, it's fluffy as hell and the longest chapter you're ever going to get out of me, shocking, I know. Bronte, writing long chapters and a non-explicit fic? It must be a Christmas miracle indeed.

Inspired by [this pic](http://miraculousladybug.wikia.com/wiki/File:Ladybug_and_Cat_Noir_ice_power.jpg).

      26: Ice Skating

“Wait, let me get this straight.”

Chat skids to a stop on his blades beside _La Patineuse_ and plants his hands on his hips, his eyebrows rising passed his hairline, “You mean to tell _me_ , Chat Noir, the bearer of the Cat Miraculous aka _your mortal enemy_ , that _you_ don't want my Miraculous?”

 _La Patineuse_ shrugs and stomps her skate on the ice, her powers sending fractals of frost every which way, “Oh, _he_ does. But I told him to stuff it, I'm busy.”

Ladybug, who’d been hanging back behind the akumatised skater in case things went south, carefully glides closer, “You told him to _what now_?”

 _La Patineuse_ strokes forwards in response and gains speed, pointing her toes in two different directions as her spread eagle arches across the frozen boulevard, “I tuned him out I guess? I wasn't really mad when his akuma came to me.”

Ladybug and Chat exchange a confused glance, “You weren't?”

“No,” _La Patineuse_ exits the field move with a flourish of one foot turns and continues down the road, “I was sad. I miss my home.”

It takes Chat a few strong pushes to catch up with her, “Where are you from?”

“Ottawa,” she replies, freezing the cobblestones beneath her feet into shimmering ice, “It gets so cold there that the Rideau Canal freezes over and we can skate on it. I used to skate to school with my friends and family every single day.”

Ladybug uses her yoyo to propel her forwards on her blades, “Ottawhat?”

“It’s in Canada,” _La Patineuse_ shakes her head in disdain and Ladybug bites her tongue, “You probably don’t even know where that is.”

“I’ve been there actually,” Chat mentions casually, skating ever closer; this isn’t his first rodeo when it comes to talking down an akuma victim from violence. In fact, in their two years as Paris’ celebrated heroes, Chat has somehow successfully convinced four people to relinquish their akuma willingly, “Well, not Ottawa. I’ve been to Montreal.”

“Yeah?” _La Patineuse_ brushes her gloved fingers across the side of a building, covering the brick facade with a sheer layer of frost, “Montreal and Ottawa are fairly close, by our standards anyway.”

Realising he’s not getting anywhere, Chat changes tactics, “So why are you sad?”

“Air Canada cancelled my flight today because of an ice storm back home,” she responds, tracing an intricate pattern with her blades on the flawless ice she’s made along _les Champs Elysées_ , “I was going to go home for Christmas but now...now I won’t be able to see my family until the spring.”

“I’m sorry,” Chat answers quietly, offering her his hand. She takes it and pulls him forwards between the stuck cars on the frozen concrete, weaving between them on deep, careful edges, “How can I help?”

“Let me do my thing?” _La Patineuse_ draws him into a spin and takes him by the wrists, placing his hands into a dance hold before he can quite figure out what’s happening. Miraculously, he manages to keep his balance and lets her take the lead, exiting in tandem towards the storefronts, “Just for an hour or two. I...I promise I don’t mean any harm by it. I just want to have a taste of home, you know?” she sighs deeply and pivots around her toe pick, the ice spreading around her with a sweep of her arms, “Just for an hour or two is all I ask and then I’ll give you my plane ticket, I promise.”

Ladybug and Chat share another considering stare. Around them, the people of Paris are already beginning to tiptoe out of their apartments with their skates in tow; some of them have already started little shinny games along the roundabouts, inviting everyone with a stick and a helmet to join. _La Patineuse_ glimmers in the burgeoning sunlight, the frosted sequins of her dress reflecting in a million different colours and her smile is just a little less homesick as skaters begin to glide by in droves.

It’s Ladybug who always has the final word and after a brief moment of consideration, she quickly nods her head. _La Patineuse_ doesn’t appear to have any malicious intent and quite honestly, the citizens of Paris could use a little fun. It’s been akuma after akuma for eleven days straight and this?

Well, it was about time they got a break.

“Go ahead,” Chat squeezes the akuma’s hand and sets her free to continue freezing the city, leaving the two of them in her frozen wake. Ladybug is puzzled by the bizarre turn of events but Chat is twisting around with a smile on his face, bright and playful and there's that familiar gleam in his eyes, one that speaks of the adventures to come.

“Well?” his grin spreads from ear to ear, “What are we waiting for?”

~

The sun is still high in the sky as Chat dives across the ice with his baton in hand, scoring the final goal of the game. Hollering, he rolls onto his back as he slows to a stop and props himself up on his elbows, the weapon with a bent cardboard box duct taped to the end of it waving in the air victoriously. The makeshift hockey stick made for a effective, if ridiculous looking piece of equipment and Ladybug is laughing, her compact open and recording as a horde of children pile on top of him.

“You win, you win!” he cries from beneath the growing gaggle of players, their giggles drowning out his pleas for mercy. The parents watching the spontaneous shinny game eventually come to haul their charges off of Chat’s squashed body and Ladybug is the one to eventually peel him off the ice, cherry cheeked and elated.

“That was awesome,” Chat breathes, ripping off the duct tape and tucking the baton back in its holster against the small of his back. They wave goodbye as they skate away down towards the neighbouring boulevard and Chat eagerly grabs her hand, “Why aren't all akuma this cool?”

Ladybug reaches over and brushes some snow from his hair, “I'm more interested in how she managed to tune him out. I mean, I didn't realise that an akuma could ignore _Le Papillon_.”

“Well, it makes sense. We've seen it happen a few times before, remember Max’s little robot? But I think this is the first time we've gotten actual proof.”

“This is good,” Ladybug turns backwards so she can talk to him face to face, “We can use this to our advantage. Maybe we can convince more akuma to turn against _Le Papillon_ and paint him as the bad guy.”

“He _is_ the bad guy,” Chat swings her around and tucks her into his side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, “I thought that was pretty clear.”

“Yes, I know you doofus,” she wriggles out of his grasp, “I mean convincing the person while they’re still akumatised. If we work on it, maybe we can come up with a script or something for you to follow.”

“For me to follow?” Chat presses his free hand to his chest, “Don't you want to give it a shot?”

Ladybug shakes her head, “Not a chance. You’re by far the best sweet talker out of the two of us.”

“Are you saying I have a talented tongue?” Chat croons, wriggling his brows. Ladybug rolls her eyes and pushes him away, swatting at his shoulder with the back of her palm.

“All I’m saying is that you’re better at convincing people not to go all ‘revenge crazy’ or whatever. You’ve got the whole Jedi mind trick thing in the bag.”

Chat blinks profusely, “Did you just...did you just make a Star Wars reference?”

Ladybug rolls her eyes again and considers tripping him just to watch him fall flat on his face, “Seriously Chat?”

“I’m honestly so confused right now. You know what Star Wars is?”

“For God’s sake Chat, everyone has heard of Star Wars.”

“You?” he asks, his shocked expression only egging her on, “You’re telling me that Miss ‘ _I’m Constantly Too Busy And I Have No Time For Friends’_ here has watched a movie?”

“I have, in fact, watched several movies,” she grumbles back, his comments hitting a little too close to home. They hadn’t talked about it exactly, but she had blown him off so many times in the past few weeks that she was beginning to feel pretty guilty about it. Secret identities be damned, she enjoyed spending time with him even if she didn’t know who he was and the fact that she kept cutting their time together short had been weighing heavily on her conscious.

“You’ve never watched a movie with me,” he points out, his lower lip sticking out with a sigh and a huff. She answers his pout by skating nearer and wrapping her arm around his waist.

“Soon chaton,” she promises quietly, not quite looking his way, “But today we skate. Come on!”

Stroking forwards, she tugs him along behind her and gains as much speed as she can, scooting around trees and lamp posts and the like. This particular stretch of road is wide and nearly empty of pedestrians so Ladybug feels no qualms in attempting to break the sound barrier on her skates, pushing against the ice as hard as she can manage. She lets Chat’s hand go and tosses a look of challenge over her shoulder and it’s finally back on, their game of cat and mouse burning aknew as he tries to catch up to her, tries to capture her in his arms as she weaves through obstacles and leaps over cars. He taunts her from behind and she teases him right back and they always know what to say to each other, always and intrinsically, their bond and their babble seemingly straightforward and yet so much more. She tries not to think about it too hard, not with the way he’s nearly nipping at her heels, his claws barely centimetres away from her suit and she’s got to get away, she’s got to—

“GOTCHA!” he hollers and she shrieks as he finally catches her around the waist, hauling her up into the air as if she were the Stanley Cup itself. They’re still moving at high speeds and Chat only barely manages to slow them down before they go flying into a snowbank, screaming at the top of their lungs.

_POOF!_

The next thing she knows, she’s desperately trying to burrow upwards to where she hopes is the top of the drift and emerges with a sputter and a sneeze, shaking her head to try and get the snow out of her nose and ears. She brushes the flakes from her lashes and spots him to her left, his legs wriggling helplessly in the air.

“Chat!” she cries out, squirming and rolling her way over to where Chat is probably drowning by now. She grabs him by the ankles and tries to pull him out but there’s no leverage, no way to yank him despite her superior strength and so she starts digging instead, following the lines of his torso until she finds his arm and tugs. His body curls towards her and suddenly he’s wheezing, caked in snow and gasping for air and _god_ , has he always been this beautiful?

There’s a brief moment in time where everything seems to move in slow motion. He’s opening his eyes, the green glimmer of his irises almost iridescent against the twinkle of his frosted lashes and his lips, _his lips,_ they’re parted and pink and she just wants to see what they feel like just once, just to make sure he’s alive even though he’s clearly breathing and he’s looking at her now, eyes wide and she can’t stop staring, can’t stop staring at his lips and—

“Ladymmph!”

She grabs him by the shoulders and presses their lips together, eager and determined and it’s just like that moment when she’d kissed him the first time except it’s not because the boy she’s kissing is actually cognizant and he’s rigid beneath her touch. Suddenly frozen, Ladybug panics and reels backwards, her snow trapped feet sending her flopping spectacularly into the snow.

Face up and sprawled in a Ladybug shaped hole, she stares up at the sky imploringly and feels mortified and embarrassed and every other synonym for the word a thesaurus could possibly spew at her. How could she have—oh my god, she just kissed him and—she just _kissed_ him, how could she be so _stupid_ — _crapcrapcrapcrap_

“Ladybug?”

She blinks into the sunlight and promptly screws her eyes shut again in an attempt to ignore him and convince herself that this was all just a dream, this was all just a dream, this was all just a—

“Did you...did you just kiss me?”

_Crap._

“Nope. Definitely not,” Ladybug mutters from her self imposed snow canyon of shame, draping her forearm over her eyes. She hears him shifting as he frees himself from the snow and she fervently ignores him as his silhouette blocks out the sun.

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t just imagine you kissing me.”

“You did. You definitely did,” she replies, praying for the snow gods to swallow her whole, “Can we go find that akuma now? It’s been a few hours.”

“Nope,” Chat says with an emphasis on the final syllable, his lips coming apart with a pop. She doesn’t like this voice much at all; it usually means he’s about to torment her, and rightfully so, “Don’t even try changing the subject on this one. You just _kissed_ me.”

“I did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“If you’re so convinced you didn’t kiss me, look me in the eyes right now and tell me you didn't.”

Ladybug shifts her arm ever so slightly and ultimately can’t bear to lift it, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“ _You’re_ being ridiculous,” Chat shimmies closer and the snow begins to crumble on top of her sprawled form, “I just challenged you to prove something to me and you didn’t even take it!”

“I don’t always have to take on every challenge you give me.”

“Mmm,” Chat sounds painfully sceptical, “Yeah, you do. The cupcake battle? The race across all 19 arrondissements? The sword fight we had the other day, which you lost, by the way.”

“I did not lose!” she accuses, throwing her arm to the side and suddenly she’s face to face with him, their noses almost touching. She hadn’t realised how close he’d gotten to her and there’s something unmistakable in his eyes, hope and longing and it’s the same look he’s given her before, the same look she’s seen in her own reflection when she looks at the photos of Adrien tucked into the frame of her mirror, now also strewn with pictures of Chat, of _him._

Chat breathes out, slowly and tentatively and there’s so much tension there, his shoulders taut with the effort of not pulling her against him and kissing her senseless. He's been dreaming about this for years, of what it would feel like to kiss her, to press his lips against hers and soak in some of her magic. The spell she casts on him is effervescent and addictive and he thinks she’ll taste like that too, bubbly and saccharine and it’ll be all he can think about, all he can dream about from the moment he wakes up to the moment he falls asleep at night.

Her eyes are trained on his lips and he really doesn’t need much more of an invitation than that, he thinks, not with the way her cheeks have turned as pink as the hedge roses in his favourite garden, soft and fragrant and even though she’s covered in snow, the sun reflecting in her eyes reminds him of the warmest of months with her on the rooftops of Paris, lazing side by side after a long patrol. She’s beautiful, bright and deadly and she wants to kiss him, she wants to kiss him so badly and he wants to kiss her too.

Bending downwards, Chat brushes his lips against hers and Ladybug meets him halfway without thinking about it, running her tongue against his bottom lip and drawing it in, sucking hard. She gasps suddenly and pulls backwards, the realisation of what she’s doing, of what _they’re_ doing hitting her like a skate to the head but Chat his other ideas, his hands reaching around her and pulling her closer, his gloved fingers tightening in her hair.

“Ladybug,” he murmurs, pulling away to breathe before fixing his mouth over hers again, diving down and softly kissing her, dipping his tongue inside. Her inner turmoil ultimately forgotten, Ladybug grabs onto the hair at the nape of his neck and draws him even closer, her pulse suddenly pounding in her ears. His hand slips beneath her back and runs up the length of her spine, sending an electric current through her body that nearly blinds her with its intensity and she knows Chat can feel it too, can feel the way she arches up against him and the sensation of all-consuming, wild and reckless and it feels like heaven.

Wordlessly, he draws back slowly and gazes into her eyes, his breaths coming out in small puffs of cloud. She’s just as winded, panting against his lips and she’s not sure she's ever felt this light in her life. It’s almost as if the snow around her has become carbonated, the little bubbles of carbon dioxide popping against her skin, and she reaches back up towards him, her hand snaking around the back of his neck and pulling him close. She presses a bruising kiss to his lips, pouring the emotions she can’t quite put into words into their brush of tongues and Chat responds just as eagerly, wrapping his arms around her torso. His tongue explores her mouth reverently, his fingers tangle through her hair and her body is fused to him, fused together like they’ve been a million times before in the heat of battle but this is different, this is so much different and his knees are on either side of her, his hips grounding down and a growl rips through her throat that comes from her toes, possessive and greedy and hungry for more.

Chat trails the tips of his claws along her ribcage and down her back, eventually settling around her hip. He uses the other to cup her cheek and pushes his body against her, revelling in the boundless warmth radiating off her body, the delicious contrast affecting him just as much as the weight of his body is affecting her. Without thinking, she wraps her legs around his hips and tries to drag him closer because there's still too much space between them, too much room, and she's been putting this off for months, years even, and now…

Well, this is kind of the point of no return, isn't it?

Her toes curl from where her ankles have crossed at the small of his back when he starts to purr and _god_ , she loves it when his barriers crumble and he lets himself be free with her. He tries to hide this aspect of himself all too often but this feels so good, this feels _amazing_ , the vibrations against her hypersensitive skin ratcheting her awareness to a fever pitch. Her heart feels like it's going to explode inside her chest, her emotions overwhelming and judging by the soft mewls escaping his lips with every rasping breath he takes, he must be feeling the same way.

Gently, slowly, he pulls away and soaks her in, her dark hair fanning out around her head a stark contrast to the pristine blanket of snow they'd found themselves in. Her breath hitches, their noses brushing as their chests rise and fall and Chat thinks he could spend the rest of his life wrapped up in the cage of her arms, the only cage he ever wants to be stuck in again. The way she holds him, the way she grasps him with all the leverage she can manage has his mind spinning, reeling as she pulls him back in with purpose, devouring his senses.

They kiss for what feels like hours, their initial ravenous hunger for each other ebbing into something a little more tender, a little more exploratory as they indulge themselves and Chat’s lost somewhere in the stratosphere, every kiss and touch seared into his skin and thoughts forever. He’s practically tingling from his head to his toes with the way her arms have hugged him tight against her body, her hands running through his hair. The tight feeling in his chest is heady and enthralling at it feels like every time he’s plummeted off a building, his heart and soul free falling with the knowledge that she’d be there to catch him, their trust requited and intrinsic.  

They had trust, confidence, faith in each other; maybe this was just the final line they had to cross.

“Ahem.”

Ladybug’s eyes shoot open and Chat freezes in her embrace, angling his chin to the side in slow motion only to gape up at _La Patineuse_ , her formidable silhouette shining in the waning sunlight of the afternoon, “I’m back to give you my ticket, that is, unless you’re too busy.”

There’s nothing much else to do but laugh at this point, and Ladybug is suddenly half sniggering and half screaming into her palms, embarrassed and elated and relieved all at once. Chat rolls off of her and helps her up, nearly swooning on his feet as she plucks the ticket from _La Patineuse_ ’s outstretched hand and gently tears it in two, releasing the akuma hiding within. She lets it hover for a moment before tossing her yoyo at the black and purple butterfly and purifies it, freeing the creature from _Le Papillon_ ’s wicked spell and setting loose her ladybug cure, melting the ice and returning the semblance of normality to the streets of Paris.

Chat’s common sense eventually kicks in and he’s at the akuma victim’s side in seconds, helping her to her feet as she shakes the cobwebs from her mind. She’s less confused than the others, her memories of her time as an akuma hazy instead of completely forgotten and Chat takes heart in the way the woman seems to find courage in that, in the knowledge that she didn’t cause terror and destruction but instead brought joy and laughter instead. She seems especially pleased when she takes in their kiss swollen lips and shining eyes, their bodies nearly conjoined as Rosalie Tremblay waves goodbye and walks away, leaving the two of them finally alone again.

“Well, today turned out better than I’d hoped,” Chat says, stating the blatantly obvious. Ladybug blinks in disbelief and takes his hand in hers, giving over to her body’s wishes and spinning around to face him.

“I’d say,” she murmurs and his face is turning pink at the proximity. Weighing her options, Ladybug stretches up on her tiptoes and presses a soft kiss to the corner of his lips before taking a step back, admiring her work, “Happy Holidays Chat.”

She releases her yoyo and launches herself up into the rooftops with a wave goodbye and it’s all he can do to keep himself from following, dissolving into a Chat shaped puddle on the sidewalk. He cups his cheeks in his palms and keeps his eyes glued on the place he’d last seen her, a goofy smile spreading across his cheeks.

_La vie est belle._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it :)
> 
> ~Bronte


	27. Cristmas Vacation (OT4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 27: Christmas Vacation 
> 
> Heat wave in the Bahamas!
> 
> NO warnings apply.

“Somehow, I’m sure Chloe is behind this.” Marinette announced, regarding the dice sitting innocently in the middle of the circle with extreme suspicion. 

“You can’t blame everything on on Chloe.” Alya said in amusement.

“Um, excuse me?” Marinette raised her eyebrow. “You blame things on Chloe _all the time.”_

“Things she actually could have done.” Alya replied. 

“She gave us the dice!” Marinette cried, pointing at the dice for emphasis.

_Lick Bathroom,_ was sitting face up in the middle of the circle.

“It has been years, M.” Nino said, lips twitching in amusement. “I don’t think Chloe is trying to sabotage us anymore.”

“Besides, they worked fine for me.” Adrien added, throwing a wink at Alya.

“My last one was ‘shower with clothes on.’” Marinette deadpanned. “The one before that instructed me to suck your toes outside… and frankly, no. Just _no.”_

“To be fair, outside isn’t a bad place to be.” Adrien grinned. “You could suck my toes while admiring the view.”

“I’d rather suck your dick while enjoying the view.” Marinette retorted.

Adrien licked his lips, eyebrows raising in interest. “That...can be arranged.”

“We have a private deck.” Nino mused.

“Someone might see us anyway.” Alya pointed out reasonably.

“We have ten meters of tropical foliage between us and the next cabin, and our porch points towards the ocean.” Marinette said, “The only way we’ll be seen is if we’re having sex on the beach and they’re swimming by.”

“And we already established that sex on the beach gets sand in uncomfortable places.” Nino added. “But we have a private proch, with some seriously awesome lounge furniture and rockin’ fire pit.”

“Sooo… Can we ditch the Chloe-rigged dice and just have sex on the porch?” Marinette asked. “I mean, Christmas vacation, in the tropics. Lets have tropical holiday sex.”

“Do we need little umbrellas and palm fronds?” Alay asked contemplatively. 

“Palm fronds are already on the trees.” Marinette replied. “But if someone will start the fire, and somebody else will get some tasty alcoholic beverages put together, I’ve got something better than underwear to assuage your voyeuristic fears.”

“The sun is going down anyway.” Nino said, sitting up interestedly. “I’ll got start the fire pit.”

“I’ll get the drinks.” Adrien said, standing up. “But I would just like to state for the record… I really like your underwear.”

Alya glanced at the lacey panties and bra laying a few feet away. “Of course you do; they’re on the floor.”

“I liked them on you, too.” Adrien winked at her, turning to stride out of the bedroom towards the kitchen, naked as the day he was born.

“Hate for him to go,” Alya said.

_“Love_ to watch him leave.” Marinette finished with a dopey grin.

“I’ll second that.” Nino said amicably, pulling on his discarded swim trunks and shrugging on Adrien’s button up.

“Why are you getting dressed?” Alya frowned. 

“Because open flame.” Niino replied. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you take them off again soon enough.”

 

“How can you stand that close to the counter?” Alya asked, winding her arms around Adrien’s waist as she stepped up behind him.

“Blenders don’t do it for me.” Adrien said cheekily, glancing at her over his shoulder as he poured alcohol into the blender. “...But that does.” He added, sucking in a breath as Alya’s hand wrapped around his cock and began stroking.

“Need a hand with those drinks?” Alya asked, kissing along the ridge of his shoulder blade.

“I like your hand where it is.” Adrien admitted, leaning back slightly as his cock hardened in her grasp. “But I won’t be pouring drinks if you keep that up.”

“How much rum did you put in there?” Alya asked in amusement.

“Shit.” Adrien muttered, setting the bottle back on the counter. “Alya…”

Alya’s hand let go of him, stepping around him and ducking under his arms. Smirking, she added more mixer to the blender, dumping the ice in before setting the lid firmly atop, trying to pretend she wasn’t just as distracted by her boyfriend’s hardened cock sitting firmly against her ass as he leaned over to nibble along her neck. His hands had come up around her, gripping her breasts through the sheer cover up she’d donned, testing the weight in his palms.

“You have to _start_ the blender too, you know.” Adrien said, flicking his fingers over her nipples as he pressed against her. Letting one of her breasts go, he pressed the appropriate button.

“Brat.” Alya hissed. “Hold the top of that.”

“Why? What are you going to- _Oh._ ” Adrien broke off as Alya spun around, narrowly avoiding the edge of the counter as she sank to her knees and sucked Adrien’s cock into her mouth. He managed to keep his hand atop the blender, the other hand gripping the counter as Alya’s free hand came up to play with his balls. The vibration of the blender was making his hand tingle, but Alya’s tongue swirling around his cock, teasing and tasting as she sucked, was going to make him come undone. 

Their game with the dice had been ratcheting him up and down the scales of arousal for the past forty minutes (Marinette’s poor luck with dice aside), and even when he cock had been mostly-flaccid, he’d still been low key turned on. Alya’s mouth was good under any circumstances, but after having been teased for nearly an hour, it was pure magic. Her fingers pressed back, massaging his taint, and Adrien groaned. His hand fumbled with the blender, switching it off.

“If you don’t stop, I’m not going to make it outside.” Adrien warned her lowly. “And nobody will get any alcohol.”

Tipping her head back, Alya looked up at him, smirking when his breathing visibly hitched, pupils dilating as she sucked, her hand pumping the bottom half of his shaft.

 

“Think we’re ever going to get those drinks?” Marinette asked rhetorically as Nino’s arms wound around her and his chin came to rest on her shoulder. 

“Maybe if the tile aggravates her knees enough.” Nino replied, nipping at the muscle between her shoulder and neck. 

“Feeling left out?” Marinette asked teasingly, bumping her hips back against the ridge in his shorts.

“Meh.” Nino shrugged. “They’re just hot to watch.”

“They really are.” Marinette nodded. Between his extremely active lifestyle and having won the genetic lottery, Adrien looked like an Adonis even hunched over and gripping the counter. His fair skin, silvery-blonde hair and perfectly sculpted body provided a stark contrast to Alya’s tan skin and firey hair. Even as they watched Adrien’s muscles tensed, spine curving and, hips twitching as he fought not to thrust into Alya’s mouth. His jaw went slack, mouth dropping open on a broken moan as he came.

Marinette shifted, rubbing her thighs together subtly. She wasn’t wearing underwear (seeing as they were planning to have sex, she didn’t want to lose another pair), but watching them had moisture slicking her thighs. Nino’s hands were on her breasts, massaging them through the robe she’d chosen, and the slide of satin along already sensitive flesh wasn’t doing anything to help her situation. He pressed against her, rubbing his erection against the cleft in her ass cheeks absently as they watched Adrien scoop Alya up. He turned, taking the tree strides to the table, not even glancing at the pair watching in the doorway as shoved Alya’s cover up aside to lap at her exposed pussy. Alya’s head tipped back, hips flexing as one hand toyed with a breast, the other burying itself in Adrien’s golden hair.

“At least they’re using the table properly.” Nino observed, his hand trailing down the the juncture of her thighs. Nuding the silk robe aside, he slid a finger between her folds. “Shit Mari, you’re soaked.”

“I don’t think that’s how you’re meant to eat at the table.” Marinette said breathlessly, stance widening as Nino’s hand nudged her thighs apart. She bit back a moan as his middle two fingers slid into her, playing with her entrance as the heel of his palm ground against her clit.

“Says who?” Nino sounded distracted as he sucked on her neck. “But… if we go in there, we’re going to get roped into table sex.”

“True.” Marinette was torn between pressing forward onto her boyfriend’s talented fingers or backwards against his bulging erection. 

“And as much as I like sex,” Nino continued, “we’re spending our Christmas vacation on a tropical island. The fire pit is going, the sun has almost completely set, I can smell the ocean on the breeze and the couch and lounge chairs have some really awesome cushions.”

“I cannot think of a better backdrop for sex.” Marinette hummed.

“The only way it could be better is if you’re on top of me.” Nino murmured. “I want to watch the firelight on your breasts, and see how you look silhouetted by palm trees as you fall apart.”

“Smooth talker.” Marinette accused, but it didn’t sound as firm as she’d hoped. Probably because Nino’s fingers were pinching her nipple even as the other did torturous things to her insides.

The hand on her breast dropped, tugging on the loosely tied belt of her robe and undoing it before he pulled his other hand away from her core as he stepped away from her. Marinette turned, shrugging out of the robe and letting it drop behind her, following as Nino undid the tie to his swim trunks and kicked them off on the patio. He grabbed one of the cushioned loungers, dragging it around to face away from the house. Turning, he held a hand out to her.

Marinette’s breath hitched. He may have painted a picture of how he’d wanted to see her, but seeing him against the same backdrop left her awed. The sun wasn’t more than a smear of color against the horizon, and she could clearly hear the waves lapping at the shore not seven meters away, the salty scent of the ocean filling her lungs as it was carried on the balmy breeze. Nino watched her, firelight bronzing his tan skin and lighting his golden eyes as he held his hand out to her, waiting. 

Her gaze dropped, taking in his erection. Now freed from it’s confines, it jutted, hard and dark, a bead of precum shining at the tip. Marinette licked her lips unconsciously before she raised her gaze and reached out to take his hand.

The lounger he’d chosen had arms, but was wide enough for two people to lay side-by-side if they wanted, so Marinette had no problem straddling Nino’s waist. Keeling over him, Marinette grabbed his cock, shuddering as she dragged it over her clit. Nino’s eyes were already clouded, hips flexing as she rubbed him against her. Marinette debated sitting back, pumping his slicked erection with her hand just to watch him squirm, but in the end she was too impatient. Gripping him, she dragged him over her once more, notching him against her opening before sliding down onto him with a moan as he spread her wide, filling her up as she rocked against him.

From there, it was experimenting to get the sensation right. She was strong enough to use her legs exclusively to drive her against him (thank you, Ladybug!), but if she gripped the arms, she could take some of the pressure off of her legs and rock against him. Finally she settled on holding the back of the lounger. She could rise up higher and slide down faster, which left him gasping under her. It also had the side benefit of putting her breasts directly in front of his face, and watching Nino pant and moan with her tit in his mouth was hot. 

Nino was on the edge, holding on by his fingernails as Marinette rocked against him, rising up, dragging her wetness along his abdomen only to slam back down on him. Everytime she rose, the evening breeze chilled his slicked erection before her heat engulfed him again. The contrast had him panting, thighs twitching, desperately trying to hold back until her pace quickened, less teasing and more urgent as she sought her own release. 

He’d been able to admire her against the firelight for a few moments, but now his eyes were closed, every sense focused on the way she felt, her slick walls rubbing against him, pressing in from every angle as he breast filled his mouth and bounced against his lips. Desperately, he tugged one hand off of her hips, grabbing her other breast and pinching the nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he sucked strongly on the other one, unable to avoid moaning when she’d slide him nearly out of her before slamming back down and impaling herself on him. 

Still, that was happening less as her walls grew tighter, gripping him and pulling on him as she panted. Nino dropped her nipple to grit his teeth, muscles tensing as he tried to hold out. He was there, he was _right there_ at the edge, dangling over the abyss and waiting for the fall. She was so tight he could feel her pulse around him, her rhythm falling apart, legs shaking and stomach clenching as she moaned.

Nino felt himself thickening inside her even as her walls spasmed around his cock. Panting harshly, Nino grabbed her hips, forcibly grinding her against him as she shook, pressing as deep as he could go. The noise torn from his throat was harsh, guttural as he thrust up into her wildly. His fingers dug into her as he tumbled, desperately seeking something to ground himself in even as she shattered around him, and he fell with her. 

His release was explosive - having been denied for so long, it was like a wall had broken, washing him away even as he emptied herself into her. He might have screamed, or whimpered as stars lit up behind his eyes and his world narrowed to a primal surge of satisfaction as he filled her, pressing her completely against him even as his seed spilled out and into her. 

When he came back to himself he was still shaking, Marinette slumped against him and panting harshly in his ear.

“Damn, that’s hot.”

Nino’s eyes cracked open and he stared over Marinette’s shoulder at his other two partners, unapologetically watching, completely naked as they sipped margaritas on the couch.

“Best Christmas vacation ever.” Adrien agreed, taking his little umbrella out of his cup and popping it into Alya’s. 

“Solid ten out of ten.” Alya nodded.

“Only a ten? Harsh.” Adrien said. “I’d give that, like, a twelve.”

“I’d give it a twelve if I could have seen Marinette’s face.” Alya retorted. “Have you _seen_ that girl lose it? Whew.” She fanned her face dramatically. 

“But Nino is so pretty when he cums.” Adrien murmured over the rim of his glass. His half-erect cock twitched in the firelight. 

“You’re not bad yourself, Hot Stuff.” Nino muttered. “We were watching you two in the kitchen.”

“That’s okay; we’ve been here for the past five minutes or so.” Alya said, stretching idly. Neither Nino nor Adrien bothered to hide their appreciation as they watched the firelight play over her curves. “Watching that, I could almost go again.”

“I could almost let you.” Adrien nodded.

“I need a break.” Marinette announced against his shoulder. “I’m...wow.”

Nino nodded his agreement. Alya sniggered and Adrien grinned affectionately. 

“Luckily, we’ve got your refueling needs covered.” Alya said. “Margaritas - extra tequila, thanks babe - water and the stuff for s’mores.”

“S’mores? Naked?” Nino’s nose wrinkled.

“We also picked up your clothes.” Alya smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“No thanks. I’ma die now.” Marinette mumbled.

Adrien chuckled, cracking open a water bottle and passing it to Nino. “Rehydrate first. Then sugar. Then alcohol. Then...let’s see how you feel.”

Nino shrugged his shoulder, jostling Marinette to encourage her to sit up so he could take a drink. Marinette smiled gratefully when he held it out to her. 

“You’re the best.” She said, taking it from him, then by passing it to kiss him sweetly on the lips.

“I love you.” Nino replied, rubbing his nose against hers affectionately. 

“No need for sugar, they’re sweet enough.” Alya said with amusement. 

“Can we do this again next year? I want to spend every Christmas like this.” Alya mused.

“Spend it how? Naked on a tropical island? With s’mores? Or here, specifically?” Adrien asked, reaching out to haul Marinette off of Nino, ignoring her squeak of protest as he settled her back against the couch and handed her a towel.

“Well, yes, this is all nice.” Alya agreed, grinning as she took the water bottle so Marinette could wipe off and slip on her robe. Across the way, Nino was doing the same. “And I’ll never discount the appeal of being naked in the tropics. But… I think the best Christmas vacation is the one I spend with you guys.”

“I agree.” Nino smiled, raising his new water bottle in salute.

“Aww…” Marinette snuggled into her girlfriend’s side. “You’re sweet, Al.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you tons.” Adrien grumbled, spearing a marshmallow. “Now can we please have s’mores? _Please?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrien _really_ wanted those s'mores. 
> 
> Huge thanks to Saijspellhart for the naughty dice idea. I don't think it came out exactly as she meant, but it gave me a great starting point. 
> 
> Also, after everyone's input I'll go back and continue the MariChat reveal shortly - and probably redo chapter 3 since literally everything else is love square/OT4 and it doesn't really fit in. Sorry guys, it was just a long, stressful week and I ran out of time... and wanted to spend Christmas with my kids. They deserved to have me the whole day, and if I'd wanted to continue going, it wouldn't have happened.
> 
> Tomorrow: **Bronte!** Bow down to her awesomeness, people! I'll see you Sunday with the end of the Ladrien arc.


	28. Blizzard (Adrinette)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 28: Blizzard by Bronte  
> Pairing: Adrinette 
> 
> Hello sinners! This is the final installment of my steamy little d/s arc, featuring Marinette as our tease in command! Enjoy!

A continuation of [Shopping](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12881412/chapters/29532372) and [Silent Night](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12881412/chapters/29960664).

     28. Blizzard

Marinette checks her mobile for the umpteeth time and refreshes the page on the browser, glaring impatiently as the screen remains unchanged. His train was supposed to have arrived by now but somehow it had gotten delayed before leaving Milan, which means he still isn’t in Paris, which means her plans were slowly unravelling to dust.

Crossing her arms across her chest, Marinette sits back down on the edge of the bed with a huff and glances at the lingerie she’d set out on the duvet contemptuously; how dare his train be late when she’d been planning for tonight ever since he’d left?

Gabriel had been working Adrien to the bone, which was nothing new, except this time he was actually  _ trusting _ Adrien with a leadership position in regards to their office in Milan. Shocked and suspicious, Adrien had been completely blindsided and overwhelmed with his responsibilities at the  _ Via Montenapoleone _ location, left in charge to “get a taste for the business”, as Gabriel had so frankly put it. To be honest, Marinette was impressed with how well he’d managed to handle himself out of his comfort zone, but Marinette always knew he was holding back when it came to his ability to take charge.

Glancing over at the floor to ceiling windows of their bedroom, Marinette vividly remembers the way he’d fucked her six ways from Sunday against the glass and  _ knows _ , quite frankly, that he’s got the goods to run a company.

She’s just not sure he wants to.

Her mobile buzzes and she picks it up in earnest, checking the notifications with a quick flick of her thumb. Seeing that his train had finally rolled into the  _ Gare de Lyon _ , she texts him to make sure that he’s arrived safely and waits for his response.

Chaton   
Sorry I’m late, the train was delayed because of the weather.

Marinette looks outside and watches as the heavy deluge of snowflakes continue to fall from the sky, the stormy panorama gently lit by the ambient Christmas lights lining the streets below.

Marinette   
It’s been snowing here all day.

Chaton   
Great. The roads better not be icy, I want to get home.

Marinette   
Me too. I missed you.

Chaton   
I missed you too. I’ll text you when I’m close.

Marinette  
See you soon <3

Springing to her feet, Marinette tosses the phone back onto the bed and laces her fingers together, her heartbeat picking up in tempo. Better late than never, this was going to be  _ perfect _ .

~

When Adrien pushes the door shut behind him and drops his luggage on the landing, he isn’t expecting much beyond a cold dinner. It’s nearly 2200 anyway, and Marinette has to be at work early the next morning so his expectations aren't particularly high, especially since it's a weekday and the weather is absolute  _ shit  _ outside. Resigned, he putters over to the fridge to see what she’d put away from him when he notices the flickering candlelight coming from the bedroom and wanders over to take a peek.

“Welcome home chaton.”

Adrien’s jaw drops as he takes in the sight of his fiancé dressed in the same red lingerie she’d bought on the day he’d lost his damn mind in her changeroom, his eyes raking over the deep red satin and lace ensemble. She’s standing tall in those Louboutin stilettos again, her calves and thighs swathed in sheer black stockings that attach to the satin garters around her waist. His gaze follows along the racy caging of her embroidered corset, the shimmering red lace catching his eye in the candlelight as she spins once, glancing over her shoulder as he takes in the sheer plunging neckline that laces up her spine. Her breasts, drawn tightly into the embellished underwire cups, are tightly pressed together and Adrien’s mouth begins to water, his cock already at half mast in a matter of seconds. 

“I missed you,” she greets as she approaches him, her breasts and hips moving in tandem with every stride. Her smile is beaming, her dark hair cascading down and around her shoulders and his breath hitches as she pauses a hair’s breadth away from where he could reach out and touch her, his body completely frozen, hot and cold all at once.

In her hand, she swings his least favourite tie.

(Or his favourite. The ugly pinstriped gift from his father was the same one he’d gagged her with two weeks ago.)

“Strip,” she orders him with a smirk, stepping out of his way and following him towards their bed. His fingers shake in anticipation as he unbuttons his travel weary jacket and dress shirt, throwing them haphazardly onto the ground. Her eyes watch him hungrily as he divests himself of the rest of his rumpled clothing, leaving him bare for only her to see.

“On the bed,” she commands and Adrien rushes to obey, pushing the sheets back and sitting on his haunches, his knees slightly spread. Slowly, she crawls onto the bed and settles herself beside him, tying his wrists together at the small of his back with an innocent kiss to his cheek and scoots out of the way before he can scarcely think to move.

“You’ve been gone for the entire week,” she says, kneeling before him on the bed. She looks down at him with a heated smile as she stretches her body and reaches for the small bottle of lube she’d set out for them earlier, “I don't want to share you. I want to make you mine.”

Marinette pours a dollop on her palm and warms it between her fingers, watching him intently as she takes his cock in her hands and begins stroking him lightly. Adrien’s eyes nearly roll to the back of his head as she increases the pressure of her fingers, her rhythm taking her from base to tip and back again, over and over. Adrien groans loudly, his head lolling backwards as the pleasure begins to overtake his senses, his skin hypersensitive, touch starved and desperate.

“Please,” he begs her and she releases him, leaning backwards and spreading her thighs. Pushing her panties to the side, she grazes his bend legs with her outstretched calves and runs her slick fingers up and down her slit, her lips glistening with moisture.

“I’ve waited this whole time to feel you inside me,” she says, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She closes her eyes as she slips a finger past her folds and begins pumping it in and out at a steady rhythm, her other hand rubbing her clit in a circular pattern. Adrien lips part as his pulse quickens and he’s desperate to touch her, to bury his face between her thighs and make her scream except his bindings are preventing him, the fabric of the tie protesting as he flexes his arms and groans.

“Ah ah ah,” she scolds him, opening her eyes for a moment to stop his protestations with a pointed glare. Chastised, he settles back onto his haunches and whimpers as she slips another finger inside herself, curling them upwards to try and reach the spot that he knows sends her into hysterics everytime. The added girth inspires her to move more quickly, her hips thrusting upwards to meet the eager thrusts of her fingers. 

“Adrien,” she moans, her orgasm coming in a rush as she fucks her fingers frantically, her back arching off the bed sheets to the tune of her cries. Pressing down on her clit, she clamps her legs shut around her fingers and rides out the rest of her orgasm, twitching and sighing with every cresting wave.

Eventually slowing, Marinette collapses into the duvet and spreads her legs apart again, her thighs and fingers sopping with the evidence of her orgasm glistening in the candlelight. She takes a deep, shaky breath and props herself back up on her elbows with an elated grin, her cheeks flushed cherry pink, “Your turn.”

She clambers back onto her knees and crawls up his body, the fabric of her corset grazing his chest and nipples but purposefully avoiding his cock and Adrien feels like screaming in discomfort at this point, desperate for release. Precome dribbles from his head as she leans down and presses a bruising kiss to his lips, their tongues clashing as she tips his chin backwards, deepening the kiss and he could honestly come right now with the way she’s nibbling along his lower lip, biting and sucking with her teeth. 

“Please,” he begs her again, nearly incoherent and unable to control his hips any longer. He thrusts upwards into the empty air and she pulls away, finally  _ finally _ reaching down and stroking his cock so slowly that Adrien feels like dying, his member throbbing almost painfully in her grasp. Working him up and down, she shimmies backwards and lets go, rising up on her knees and slipping her panties down her legs. He watches, delirious with need as she takes far too long than entirely necessary, working the straps down centimetre by centimetre until his cock is bobbing against his abdomen with his subtle thrusts.

Tossing the offending undergarment away, she crawls back to him and rises up on her knees, lifting her leg and positioning herself overtop of him. Wrapping one hand around his shoulders and using the other as a guide, she lowers herself onto him until his cockhead slips inside her and then promptly pulls off again.

“Nnngh!,” he’s in no shape for words at this point, the muscles in his back and thighs twitching with the urge to thrust up inside her. He barely restrains himself, knowing that would only make his predicament worse. 

“Are you going to be a good boy for me?” Marinette asks him with a knowing smile, letting the head slip in again. She rises back up and repeats the action, over and over again until Adrien is mewling, begging for release, “Are you going to stay here with me?”

Adrien stays perfectly still as she holds herself over top of him, his thighs twitching with the effort, “Please...”

“I had to fight akuma all by myself you know,” she explains, twisting her hips as she dips back down, smirking as Adrien begins to shake beneath her hands, “Nothing I couldn’t handle, but I was so sore after and all I could think about was your hands on my body, massaging my shoulders, having a bath together…”

Marinette bends down and kisses him, catching his lower lip between her teeth, “And after our bath together, we would fall into bed and you would make love to me over and over again until I forgot my own name…”

Adrien closes his eyes and tries to focus on her words but it’s hard when she’s clenching her muscles around the head of his cock over and over again, “Go on, tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” he manages to say, his eyes screwed shut in anticipation.

“I want you....what?” she urges him to finish his sentence, her pussy hovering mere centimetres away.

“I want you…” Adrien’s so close he can taste it, her teasing nearly pushing him over the edge, “...to fuck me.”

“Good boy,” she purrs in his ear, running her fingers through his hair, “Now, say it like you mean it.”

He takes a deep, shaky breath, “I want you to fuck me.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please.”

Suddenly, she slams down onto him, enveloping his aching cock and  _ fuck _ if it isn’t the greatest feeling in the world when she starts to grind her hips against him, milking him from the inside. He’s shivering still, his head shaking from side to side and it’s almost more than he can stand, his nerves firing like live wires and he’s so sensitive, the intense pleasure almost painful as his orgasm builds, quickly and relentlessly. It starts in his toes and the nape of his neck, goose pimples covering his skin as electricity travels up his limbs towards the base of his abdomen, his peak harder and sharper than ever before and—

Marinette lifts herself off of him and Adrien crumples into her grasp, whimpering desperately and he was so close,  _ so close _ to falling off the edge and he looks up at her imposing figure pleadingly, imploring her, begging her for mercy, “I can’t...please…”

Panting, she leans forward and brushes her lips past his ear, her hair grazing his chest and nipples, “Stay with me.”

“Yes,” he whispers, unable to muster much more than that, “Please.”

“Good boy,” she murmurs and she’s lowers herself on his cock again, grinding and riding him and Adrien is putty in her hands, his face burrowed in the crook of her neck as she moves faster and faster and he can feel his balls drawing tight, his orgasm approaching like a freight train and all he can do is wait for her to stop again, tease him again, knock him senseless again except she isn’t, her pace increasing, her lips against the shell of his ear whispering sweet nothings, praising him for being such a good boy for her and—

His orgasm smashes into him like an earthquake and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before, sparks erupting from behind his tightly closed eyelids, blinding and overwhelming. She keeps moving, riding it out and he keeps coming, a quivering mess between her thighs as he collapses into her, noises he can’t even recognise cascading from his parched lips, whimpering in her ear. He’s both relieved and exhausted, his mind completely wiped as she strokes his hair, massaging her fingers against his scalp and it’s all he can do to before falling forwards, forever under her spell.

He opens his eyes a few minutes later and finds himself flat on his back, his arms free and his fiancé draped across his chest. She’s tracing absent patterns across his skin and looks up when she’s seen that he’s finally conscious again and smiles, rising onto her elbows, “And he’s back.”

Adrien groans and closes his eyes again, sleep not far off, “Nnngh.”

“Articulate as always,” she giggles and Adrien opens one eyes as she scoots closer, kissing him on the nose, “That was fun, we should do this again.”

Adrien doesn’t provide her with an answer, but he can feel his cock twitch at the thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> Up next, Fairia and I work on the Hot Tub/Jacuzzi prompt together because she's busy, I'm busy and you're all in for a treat!
> 
> ~Bronte


	29. Hot Tub (Adrinette)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 29: Hot Tub by Bronte AND Fairia  
> Pairing: Adrinette
> 
> Hey Sinners! This is the inadvertent collaboration between the two of us that'll knock your socks off! Essentially, Fairia was busy so I took this prompt over, but then I sucked at it because I was trying to write three chapters at once. So, she hopped back in and fleshed it out and voilà! A masterpiece just for you! 
> 
> Time to get wet, shall we?

       29. Hot Tub

Marinette is already on the balcony when Adrien emerges from the bathroom, scrubbing his hair with a towel. He briefly considers putting on his swim suit and literally throws that idea to the side, kicking the offending garment away in the hopes that she’s also made the same decision.

“About time,” she grumbles, her eyes closed as he slips out onto the balcony and makes a beeline for the jacuzzi. His aching feet are already throbbing from being shoved in ski boots all day and now they’re stinging, freezing cold from the snow covered wood planks that make up the deck. He makes sure to grab onto the side before nearly leaping into the bubbling waters, knowing all too well his penchant for bad luck when it comes to these kinds of things, and the last thing he wants to do is engulf his grumpy girlfriend in a tidal wave of water if he were to slip and fall in face first.

They’re on a well deserved vacation near the Mont Blanc massif in Haute-Savoie, having both finished their university finals early for once. He’d booked four days in the Alps without telling her, already well-versed with her irritation when he spent too much money doting on her, but he’d let her parents in on the Christmas gift so she’d be less likely to refuse him. That, and she was never particularly keen on leaving Paris in the hands of Rena Rouge, Carapace and Queen B but here she was regardless, her bare breasts floating near the top of the water, her eyes closed as she reclines against the headrest, quiet and composed.

Picking a seat to her left, Adrien looks out at the breathtaking panoramic views of the mountains and tries to ignore the pins and needles in his toes as they acclimatise to the hot water, the feeling altogether painful and unpleasant in comparison to the vision before him. He glances between both Marinette and the mountains and quickly considers which one is more beautiful in that moment.

The answer, of course, is obvious.

She’s been a bit prickly since falling repeatedly on her face all afternoon so he approaches her cautiously, scooching over centimetre by centimetre until he’s in her space. He knows he’s not fooling her, not with the way her lips seem to turn down at the corners as he slips into the seat next to her and he’s about to wrap his arm around her shoulders when she speaks, her voice authoritative enough to stop him in his tracks and send a bolt of arousal straight to his cock.

“Massage my feet and then we’ll talk about skiing lessons, alright?”

“Yes Madame,” he obeys, goose pimples breaking out along the skin of his arms and fingers. Leaning forwards, he swims over to the other side of the tub until he’s across from her and takes her left foot in hand, propping it up on his knee beneath the water and digging his thumbs into the sole.

Adrien is good at many things, and massaging is certainly one of them. Whether it’s aching shoulders from a late-night cram session or strained muscles from a difficult fight, he’s practised on her enough to know exactly what she likes. Marinette’s feet are sensitive - she’s on them enough throughout the day that they’re often aching, and Adrien knows just how to press, dragging his thumb over the underside of the arch, smoothing the balls of her feet. Using his palm to press her foot back, gently stretching out the tendons of her ankles before he starts to rub her calves. He takes his time, making sure her feet are as relaxed as they’re going to get before moving on.

She’d said “foot massage”, but Adrien is banking on the fact that she’s not going to protest him drifting to other areas...and he’s right. He’d spent a while on her feet, soothing aches with expert fingers before venturing further up, and his ministrations have had their intended effect: Marinette’s head has tipped back and is resting against the ledge of the pool, the tension melting off of her features. The position has her back arching, chest just barely under the water and the tips breaking the surface with each breath. Exposure to the chill air has left her nipples hardened, pebbled and glistening in the moonlight as the water shines on her skin. 

He scoots closer, one hand massaging her calf, the other hand drifting up, fingers trailing sensually against the back of her knee. Soft enough to be mistaken for the tub’s current, he does it several more times before he sets her leg down and moves to the other side.

He could have just pulled one leg over the other (that would have helped stretch her hip, which is also probably bruised), but Adrien’s not ashamed to admit that he has ulterior motives. Sitting next to the leg he’s tending forces her legs apart, exposing her center to the hot tub’s pulsing currents. Patiently, he begins the process with this leg all over again, and by the time he’s worked his way up her calf, he can see that her breathing is just a touch too heavy to be relaxation. Her arms are no longer thrown over the back of the tub, but her back is still arched, mouth hanging open just slightly as she breathes.

Adrien knows better than to ruin the spell by checking, but he’d bet good money that her legs have fallen further open, and the shifting currents are doing half the work for him.

This time when his finger ghost over the back of her knee, he slides them a little higher, trailing his fingertips over the inside of her thigh before bringing them back down to massage the muscles around her kneecap. Under the water he’s pleasantly aroused, cock bobbing along in the current. Occasionally it’s brushing his love’s calf, and he knows she’s aware of it, but she’s not saying anything so he’s not offering.

Working his fingers around her kneecap, pressing gently, he glides his fingers up the top of her thigh, fingertips stroking for a second before her begins to knead the muscles there. Leaning over slightly as he is for better leverage, he knows she can feel his cock brushing against the skin just below her knees where he calf rests across his lap. The next time his fingers brush her inner thigh, she shudders slightly, and knows that it isn’t from the cold.

Marinette isn’t a fool; she knows exactly what game her lover is playing, and she’s more than happy to let him play it, but now she’s getting impatient. His fingertips brush the inside of her thighs, close ( _ so close _ ) but not where she wants them. She’d made her demand, but now he’s letting her know that he’s setting the pace.

So she arches her back a bit more, deliberately letting her breasts break the water as she hums contentedly at his ministrations. There’s a jet at the small of her back that’s doing some frankly  _ amazing _ things, and she absently wonders how the stream would feel on her clit, with Adrien behind her thrusting.

She hopes she’ll get to find out. 

“Feeling better?” Adrien asks conversationally, fingers smoothing over the side of her thigh and working towards her hip joint. 

“Much.” Marinette admits, letting her calf brush against his cock, a gentle but deliberate rub up the underside of the shaft as it floats in the water.

Adrien chuckles, but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge her as he trails his fingers over her skin. Under the water, Marinette spreads her legs further apart, enjoying the wet warmth against her core. And waits.

Her thoughts are wiped away as his fingers dance further up her thighs, sending shivers up her spine despite the heat of the water. The silky glide of his fingertips, the way he presses just so only to drift away and settle back along her calf, along the back of her knee, toying, teasing. Her hips are quivering by this point and the sounds pouring from her lips are positively obscene but she can’t be bothered to care, not when they’re in a lodge on the side of a mountain, delightfully, exultantly,  _ blissfully _ alone.

Adrien has given up the massage in favor of running his fingers over her, drawing idle patterns on her skin as the hot tub bubbles and froths around them. Soon enough though, his fingers are brushing against her inner thigh again, a little higher each time. Marinette forces even breaths through her nose. And waits.  

His fingers brush her exposed clit, just a ghosting so faint she can’t be sure it was actually him, but soon enough he’s back. The pad of his finger runs down her center, tracing her seam, and Marinette can’t help the way her breath catches. She cracks open her eyes, peering down through her lashes to find Adrien watching her, eyes half-lidded and cat-like, the lazy expression on his face at odds with the gleam that tells her he’s actually paying sharp attention. 

Marinette stretches and luxuriates in the heat that’s blossoming in her abdomen, her arms reaching out to either side of the jacuzzi to support herself as she arches her back and uses her legs to hook around his waist and draw him in, her breath coming in puffs of cloud as he swipes his thumb along her slick folds and circles her aching clit. She bites her lip as he teases her, running the pads of his fingers back and forth and back again along her slit before finally slipping between her folds again, toying with her entrance without quite pushing inside. Whimpering as he increases his speed, he dips the tip of his index finger within and feels how wet and tight she is, slick and needy as he thrusts inside her, rubbing her clit with slow and steady strokes.

“Adrien…” she manages to stutter, his free hand gently kneading the muscles of her thigh as he continues to coax her towards her peak. She’s close now, the messy glide of his fingers evidence enough as he continues massaging her clit and adds a second finger, spreading her thighs. Watching her closely, he picks up the pace relentlessly and Marinette inhales sharply as her orgasm seizes her, her inner walls spasming and rippling around him as she cries out, revelling in the pleasant buzz in her limbs. She clenches her thighs tight, closing them around his hand as he cups the slick warmth there, her folds thick and pulsing as he does his best to prolong her orgasm, her muscles clamping down around his fingers.

Adrien leans forward, capturing her lips, swallowing her last whimpers as she shudders down off of her high, languid and relaxed and having completely forgiven her boyfriend for laughing at her earlier. He nibbles her bottom lip, pressing a sweet, soothing kiss to her lips as he slips his fingers out of her and relaxes next to her. The warm waters are still fizzing around them, and she’s semi-interested in that jet at her back, but not enough to try to do something about it right now (maybe next time.) 

They sit, relaxing, watching the stars swirl in the night sky against the backdrops of jagged mountain peaks and pinpoints of lights in houses below. Aside from the whir of the tubs motor and the slosh of the water, all she can hear is her breathing. Sighing, she leans her head back against Adrien’s wet shoulder as it slides across the tub lip at her back.

“So…” he starts casually, “about those lessons.”

“Shuddup Agreste.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment with your thoughts, ~~we're both needy for love and affection~~ we both love to read your reactions! LOL!
> 
> See you tomorrow for my final chapter! And Fairia will be finishing you off with an explosive chapter that will surely help you ring into the new year!
> 
> ~Bronte


	30. Holiday Party (LadyNoir)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 30: Holiday Party by Bronte  
> Pairing: LadyNoir
> 
> Fellow sinners, I will admit that I went full tilt on this one. I was inebriated the entirety of this chapter and you can probably tell because it's reaaaally naughty. It's filthy, my favourite beverage in involved and I'll warn you in advance, it's a wild ride from start to finish. I don't think I'd post it if I were sober, so it's a good thing I got plastered at brunch. 
> 
> Enjoy!

       30. Holiday Party

Like most good stories, this one starts out with a bottle of wine.

“Damn,” Ladybug mutters under her breath just loud enough for his enhanced hearing to catch, “I take two sips and he's back over here, refilling my glass.”

Chat shrugs and subtly points down at the correct fork on the table setting, urging her to pick up the right utensils, “We're getting the special treatment tonight, you know how Mayor Bourgeois can be.”

“Do I ever,” she responds, gazing down at the Pierre Gagnaire masterpiece in front of her. Leave it to André to hold another one of his grand end-of-year celebration in a Michelin star restaurant, “Do you even know what any of this is?”

“Mostly,” Chat replies out of the corner of his mouth, staring intently at the intricately plated dish before taking a dainty bite. Ladybug purses her lips at his seemingly effortless grace and tries to mirror him, her fork and knife poised clumsily between her gloved fingers.

They're three courses deep when Ladybug notices the tension between Chat’s shoulders, the way his fingers tremor ever so slightly as he slices the _corolle de Saint-Jacques_ in the bowl in front of him. She glances sidelong at the group of special guests two tables down and, although she wasn't blessed with the gift of enhanced hearing and sight as Ladybug, she knows the source of his irritation is one Gabriel Agreste.

“Are you alright?” she asks, her gaze trailing the exposed tendons of his neck as he takes a heavy swig of Beaujolais. He nods brisky and stabs his puntarella salad a little too vigorously, twirling his knife between his claws before ultimately getting a hold of himself and setting it back down beside his plate.

“He's talking about me again,” he mutters, slipping the stem of his glass between his knuckles and swirling the wine in circles, “Apparently he's not a fan of my latest shoot, not that he'd tell me that to my face.”

Ladybug fondles the yoyo on her hip and fantasizes about smacking Gabriel in the head with it, “You looked amazing and you know it.”

“I know that,” Chat snaps back, lifting the glass to his lips again, “He just called me _broad_ , can you believe that? Sorry if I'm _Chat Noir_ and I have to eat a little more than your fucking 1500 calorie-a-day diet.”

“Hush,” she presses her palm against his thigh and squeezes, “There are dignitaries around, keep it down.”

“Yeah? Tell that to my father.”

The fourth and fifth courses go by quickly enough, but that doesn't stop her from trying to lighten the mood. Poking him in the side with her finger, she leans over casually and whispers in his ear, “I don't think I’ve ever prayed this hard for an akuma to come and attack us.”

Chat grins and tries to hide his snickers with his serviette, “Right? How many more deconstructed _whatevers_ can they possibly force us to eat?”

She throws him a conspiratory glance from behind the rim of her wine glass, “You don't think we could fake an emergency...do you?”

Chat eyes are already sparkling, his Cheshire grin never failing to make her weak at the knees, “Funny you should say that, I know just the girl who could spring us free.”

A few text messages and a dramatic gasp later, Ladybug and Chat suddenly find themselves rushing up from their seats and squeezing through the elite patrons of André’s lavish party, waving apologetically and explaining that there had been an akuma sighting in the Latin Quartier courtesy of the LadyBlog. Chat doesn't miss the suspicious glare on his father's features and hopes that he still hasn't put two and two together as Ladybug plants a apologetic kiss on André’s cheek, thanking him for his hospitality.

“Duty calls,” André sighs, pressing a sorrowful hand to his chest, “And on such a wonderful evening of celebration!”

“We’re sorry we couldn’t stay for dessert,” Chat replies with a extravagant bow, reaching back to pluck a bottle of _Chaeauneuf du Pape_ from the sommelier’s station, “Mind if we take one for the road?”

André’s eyes widen comically before he begins to laugh, “Of course, of course! Even Paris’ heroes have to celebrate on occasion. Here, take two! Consider it an offering of appreciation for your troubles.”

“You are too kind,” Ladybug responds with a smile as André bids them good evening with a wave. Chat eagerly snags the second bottle and they scoot out the door as fast as their feet can manage, Ladybug’s arm wrapping around his waist as she whisks them onto the roof.

“Oh thank god,” Chat says in a rush, tucking one of the bottles beneath his arm as he balances on the eaves, “Let’s find a place to drink these before I drop them.”

“Considering your luck,” Ladybug brushes her bangs from her eyes and purses her lips in thought, “It’s gotta be somewhere where we won’t be spotted. Any ideas?”

“Notre-Dame?”

Ladybug shrugs, “Sounds good to me!”

~

An hour and two bottles later, Ladybug and Chat Noir find themselves quite literally plastered to the rooftop of a church, giggling like naughty school children.

“Drink much?” Ladybug snickers as Chat dribbles some wine down the front of him, “Or do you just read about it?”

Chat sticks his tongue out at her as he tries to wipe the alcohol off his chest, succeeding in only smearing it further, “A little help maybe?”

“Pfft,” she takes another swig from her bottle, “You’re on your own.”

“Rude,” Chat gives up after a few more swipes and rolls onto his belly, smacking his lips together, “My face is tingling.”

Ladybug starts to giggle again, feeling quite pleasantly buzzed herself, “What?”

“My face,” he repeats himself, poking his cheek with his claw, “is tingly.”

“Someone can’t hold their liquor,” she teases him, ruffing his hair.

“I’m not allowed to drink,” he grumbles, pouting at the rim of his wine bottle, “Prim and proper Adrien is simply _tooooooo_ perfect for such things.”

She nearly spits out her mouthful of wine at his high pitched, nasally tone, “Was that supposed to be an impersonation of your father?”

“Yeah,” Chat yanks the bottle from her hands and stares at her contemptuously for a moment before taking a swig, “He sounds like that when he’s talking out his ass, which is like, always.”

“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes, taking her bottle back, “You need to slow down.”

“Nu-uh,” he whines, snatching his own nearly empty bottle from where he’d left it and clutching it protectively against his chest, “It’s mine.”

“Go ahead, but when that’s empty, you’re finished,” she replies, leaning back against a gargoyle, “Because it’s going to be my job to drag your sorry butt home and tuck you into bed.”

“Bed?” Chat’s ears begin to wiggle, his glassy-eyed stare suddenly bright, “Bed! Let’s go to bed.”

“No, _you’re_ going to bed,” she stretches one of her legs out towards him, watching as his eyes skim the length of it and settle at the base of her thighs, “You’re going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

“That’s gonna be then,” Chat’s pupils narrow, his grin widening as he pulls himself onto his hands and knees, “This is now.”

“Yeah?” she raises a brow and shifts her leg around, flicking his bell with her toes, “And what do you plan on doing right now?”

Thinking doesn’t seem to be doing him any favours as his eyes nearly cross with concentration, “I’m gonna...uh…”

“Why don’t you let me take the lead,” Ladybug purrs, lifting her chin. He mirrors her gesture as she beckons him to come towards her, smirking all the while, “You’re a good boy right?”

Alcohol be damned, Chat’s cock has gone from zero to hero in a matter of seconds.

“Uh-huh,” he says, nodding fervently and crawling closer.

“Sit on your haunches for me,” she requests, the wine in her veins giving her confidence as she trails her toes across his chest and sternum, “And give me your tail.”

“My tail?” Chat blinks slowly, the realisation of her words dawning on him sluggishly, “Oh...my _tail._ ”

“Yes, your tail,” she holds her hand outstretched as his numbed fingers fumble with the buckle. It takes a bit longer than it should have, but he finally manages to wrestle the strip of leather free and passes it to her, his eyes wide and sparkling.

“Thank you,” she plucks the belt from his grasp and leans forwards, looping it around his bell before he can even figure out what’s happening. Smirking, she reclines back against the gargoyle again and tests the leash, pulling gently on the leather and watching intently as Chat’s alcohol addled brain catches up to what’s happening.

“L...Ladybug?” Chat manages to stutter, his lips falling open as he looks down at the bell and back at her, “Is that…?”

“Who’s my good little kitten?” she tips her head to the side and smirks, watching as he comes to understand just exactly what game she’s playing. This has always been a bit of a fantasy for her, one which she wouldn’t have even suggested if she wasn’t already several glasses deep herself, “Who’s my sweet boy?”

“I...I am?” he stammers and his pupils are blown wide, his cheeks burning with a blush that's likely spread all the way down to his toes. She tugs on the makeshift leash again and presses her foot against the crease of his thighs to encourage him to spread his legs wider.

“Yes you are,” she purrs, eyeing him appreciatively, “Such a pretty kitty.”

Chat closes his eyes and bows his head, shivering and moaning as her toes graze his erection. She licks her lips and pulls at his neck again until he's practically bent in two, her fingers scratching and petting behind his leather ears until he's putty in her grasp.

“You look so good like this,” she praises, rewarding him with another stroke to his cock, “You love being on your knees for me don't you?”

Chat leans into her touch, panting into her lap and she yanks down on the belt until he's settled comfortably on his elbows, his head bracketed between her thighs, “What do you want chaton? What do you want to you, hmm?”

Whimpering, Chat presses his nose against her centre and breathes deeply, quivering beneath her alternating rough and gently touches.

“Good kitty,” Ladybug presses down on the crown of his head, urging him on, “Look at that pretty mouth.”

Chat runs his tongue up and down the seam of her suit, nuzzling longingly against her thighs and belly and Ladybug lets her head loll backwards as his tongue flicks against her, laving circles along her lower lips. She bucks into his eager mouth, her grip on his hair tightening like a vice as she takes her lip between her teeth and bites, revelling in the sting.

“A little higher,” she tugs on the belt, easing him up a few centimeters and she rewards him with a moan, clamping her thighs tightly around his head, “That's better kitty, _oh!_ ”

Fisting her other hand in his hair, she yanks and tugs and that only seems to spurn him onwards, quickening his pace until he’s moaning just as loud as she is, the vibrations doing wonders against her clit. She’s so close now, the fact that she’s actually got him on a leash only adding fuel to her fantasies and she imagines how they must look right now with her ankles notched behind his back, his face buried between her legs, the friction of his tongue on her body making her delirious and—

“ _Oh!_ ” she cries out, shuddering and bucking like an animal against his face as she comes, thrusting her hips up against his mouth as she holds fast against him. Tugging on his leash, her back arches as he continues to do his best to prolong her orgasm, her muscles spasming until she’s left staring up at the starry winter sky, dazed and even more aroused than she was before.

When she finally finds the strength to sit back up again, she finds him still kneeling in front of her, his thighs still spread, his lips still parted. She takes a shaky breath and licks her lips, beckoning him closer with a crook of her finger.

“That was _so_ good kitty, such a good boy,” she says, watching his expression practically melt into a puddle of relief. She realises he was waiting on her for more praise, to assure him that he did well and the realisation of that particular kink of hers only serves to soak her more, “Do you want your reward?”

He nods vigorously, his erection straining urgently against his suit.

“I’m going to get you to touch yourself for me,” she commands, watching as he closes his eyes and moans, “but with just one finger. You can use it however you like, but you can only use one.”

His eyes snap open, his breath coming in pants as he reaches down with his right hand and presses his index finger to the bulge in his suit, grinding his hips forwards. He finds a steady rhythm and sticks to it, all the breath in his body leaving him as he throws his head back and gasps.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she snaps the leash for good measure, quickly gaining his attention, “Don’t come until I tell you to.”

He tries to keep his half lidded gaze focused on her but it’s so hard when she’s rubbing her palm between her legs again, her juices having soaked through her suit, wetting her fingers and thighs. He watches them move around and around her clit, hypnotising him and suddenly he’s close, his body tightening beneath him, the muscles in his thighs quivering in anticipation of his release.

“You look so good on your knees,” she says, her voice shaking as she drives her fingers harder against her clit, “You’ll do anything for me won’t you? Anything at all?”

Chat is seconds away from falling off the precipice, his balls drawn tight to his body, “Yes.”

“Then stop.”

His hips grind to a halt, “What?”

“Talking back?” she chastises him, pulling on his belt sharply enough to knock him off balance, “Naughty kitty. Only good little kitties get to come.”

“I’m good,” he thinks he manages to say but his lips are numb and his brain is hardly working, too focused on the burning, _throbbing_ need between his thighs, “I can be good.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, shifting her leg so her foot sits between his spread knees again, her toes only a few centimetres away from his cock, “Are you sure you can be a good boy for me?”

He nods over and over, his hips aching with the desire to just thrust up against her foot and find release, “I’m a good boy.”

Ladybug nearly loses it right then and there, the words spilling from his lips almost triggering her orgasm even without her fingers playing patterns against her centre, “Say please.”

“ _Please_.”

“Good boy,” she extends her leg and presses her foot against his erection, pulling on his leash, “Come for me.”

Chat doesn’t need to be told twice, thrusting his hips up against her foot and fucking himself senseless, his cries loud enough to rattle the stained glass windows of the church they’re lying on. She's adding pressure, the intensity of the friction sending him reeling and Chat braces himself on his knees, keening to the sound of her voice as she praises him and Ladybug is almost there herself, his reactions to her compliments heightening her arousal to a fever pitch, “Let go kitten, come for me.”

Chat’s body bows and arches, his release erupting from his abdomen and sparking through his limbs like a bolt of electricity. His cries trigger her own orgasm, her head thrown back with her throat exposed and it feels like she's on fire, her inhibitions as loose as her lips as she moans, her release all-consuming. She forces herself to focus quickly just to watch him come down from his high, shivering and sloppy, relaxed and devoted just to her.

“Mmm…” she leans back, idly carding her fingers through his hair as he flops forwards and presses his cheek against her lower abdomen, utterly sated, “We should get drunk more often.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kudos and comments everyone! This is my final chapter, so I bid you all adieu! 
> 
> You won't be hearing from me for a while as I'll be working on Masquerade's sequel, but if you'd ever like to get in touch or share something with me, you can find me at papillonmiraculeux.tumblr.com where I will be more than happy to get to know you and read your works/like your art. And if you like wine and love to talk about it (that's how Fairia and I started our loving relationship), I'm your resident alcoholic sin sister. Hit me up!
> 
> Have a Happy New Year everyone!
> 
> Bronte


	31. New Year's Eve (Ladrien final)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 31: New Year's Eve
> 
> We are all Alya.

The bass was loud enough to rattle her bones, and the counter beat that Nino was working had adrenaline zipping through her as she worked her way around the dance floor, another round of cosmos clutched in her hands as she squirmed through the sea of bodies. Clubs weren’t really her thing - she was more of a small gathering kind of person - but it was New Year’s Eve, the club was owned and operated by friends, and Nino had scored one of the coveted DJ slots in between the bands that were scheduled for the evening. So she was here in support of her friends.

And also to drink. Being friends with Adrien meant they got the VIP treatment. Being friends with the DJ meant they got bottle service when he was working, and being friends with management (Max and Alix) meant the bottles were good ones. Being friends with the bartender (Kim) meant that she got a steep discount at the bar, and the drinks were never watered down. And being friends with Alya and her ongoing matchmaking attempts (especially now that she was engaged), meant she really needed all those drinks. 

It wasn’t a privilege Marinette took advantage of often, but tonight she damn well had. Because alcohol was like Chloe: it was a fantastic frienemy. On one hand it helped her retain her sanity and laugh off Alya’s blantant attempts to get her maid of honor together with the best man. It helped her be patient and not do anything stupid like tell Alya she’d already been in a relationship with Adrien for the past year (just, you know, not as Marinette). On the other hand, it egged her into slipping a note into Adrien’s pocket as she squirmed through the writhing mass of bodies on the dance floor and pinching his butt as she disappeared into the crowd. 

He’d done it to her the other week at the charity event, so turnabout was fair play, alcohol told her. Besides, it was win-win. Either he found her note and she got fun sexytimes on New Year’s Eve, or he didn’t and she got to razz him next time she slipped in his window. 

“Alya!” She shouted over the music, stepping carefully up the first step to the raised stage. Alya was at the back and out of the way, but she saw Marinette and came forward to grab the drinks before Marinette could trip and spill them. 

“Girl, what are you doing back here?” Alya shouted above the music, maneuvering back a bit to get away from the mass of bodies crowded even this close to the speakers - the club was jumping and Nino was always popular but this was ridiculous. “Adrien is out on the floor!”

“You said you wanted a drink!” Marinette shouted back.

The look Alya shot her was both eloquent and annoyed as she sipped her drink.

“Besides,” Marinette added, “he was dancing with that girl. From the place? You know, the one with the boobs? He looked like he was having fun.”

Adrien hadn’t really looked like he was having that much fun, actually. The girl probably thought she had him on the ropes, but Marinette (and Ladybug) had known Adrien for years. He might look interested, but there was a big difference between Adrien the Model and Adrien the Man. Marinette found herself both gratified and baffled that Adrien was mostly-indifferent to the busty socialite that was unapologetically grinding herself against his crotch, while giving him a prime view down her top. A view that he hadn’t more than glanced at the whole time Marinette had been watching him as she moved across the crowded dance floor towards the bar. 

_“That_ bimbo?” Alya grimaced. “Girl you need to go save him - that harpy is going to use him and lose him, unless she wants his bank account.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow.

“Ugh, you’re right.” Alya groaned. “We’ll have to surgically remove her. Please tell me she wasn’t shoving her hand down his pants.”

“She was trying to get him to stick his hand up her shirt when I passed.” Marinette said. “He wasn’t taking the bait though.”

“Good boy.” Alya nodded. “Not that he doesn’t know how to fend off unwanted attentions, I guess.”

“Maybe he wants the attention.” Marinette shrugged, discretely glancing at her phone. Fifteen minutes. “When is Nino’s set done?”

“Nino is done in twenty, but he’s got to stick around to help the sound booth out until one.” Alya called above the noise as the music transitioned to a new song. “Why, you gonna head up?”

“I think so.” Marinette nodded. “Drinks down here are cheap, but they’re not free, and we’ve got a whole bottle in the lounge.”

“You should stay. Dance - there’s tons of hotties around here, girl!” Aya encouraged her. “And Adrien is down here too. Show him a little bump and grind, and I bet he’d fall at your feet!”

“Or be totally weirded out and not be able to look at me the rest of the night.” Marinette said wryly. “And then I’ll have to get him drunk so he’ll forget and treat me like a normal human being again.”

Alya threw up her hands. “Maybe he needs to be weirded out! Maybe you’ll finally escape the friend zone if he’s a little weirded out. Besides, if the brunette bimbo can bump his heart rate, you could destroy him.”

Marinette forced out a laugh and switched gears when Alya’s countenance took on a particularly mulish gleam. 

“You know, I think you’re right, I am going to go dance.” She called over the din, raising her nearly-empty glass and shaking it a bit. “I’m going to hit the bar for a refill, but I’ll see you later on, okay?”

“Alright.” Alya nodded, appeased. “Be back in the lounge for the countdown!”

“Definitely!” Marinette flashed her a bright grin, turning to weave back through the crowded dance floor. She did dance her way across it, glass raised out of bumping range, humoring a few guys who turned to her in case Alya was still able to see her. But as soon as she cleared the floor, Marinette set the empty glass down on an abandoned table and moved to the edge of the room. 

The door was cleverly concealed against the wall, but Marinette was familiar with the layout and knew exactly where it was. Slipping inside, she glanced around to make sure she wasn’t being followed before she wound her way around to supply closet she’d indicated to Adrien in her note. She glanced at her watch, noted she was cutting it close, and slipped inside, hoping that the beam of light wouldn’t reveal her if her would-be paramour had arrived ahead of her.

“Hello?” She called tentatively into the darkness. It was pitch black, and Marinette held out her hands so she didn’t smack face-first into a shelving unit or something.

“Ladybug?” Adrien’s voice was cautious, and Marinette switched direction, arms swinging towards her lover’s voice as she took a step forward.

“Adrien.” Her voice sounded needy and breathless, which wasn’t far off the mark: Adrien had been taunting her all night, just by being there. By the time she had three shots and two cosmos egging her on, Marinette would have sworn that her panties squelched when she walked.

His fingers grasped hers, lacing their hands together as he tugged her forward to crash into him. Marinette went with the movement, allowing herself to fall against him, reaching up to where she knew she would find his lips.

He tasted of the vodka they’d shared upstairs in the lounge, and the soda with rum he’d had downstairs once Nino’s set started. His overshirt was already unbuttoned and Marinette slid her hands underneath, smoothing her fingers over the planes of his abdomen, grasping flat nipples between her fingers, tweaking them and catching his gasp in her mouth. 

“Ladybug.” Her name was a groan on his lips as his fingers flexed, on hand digging into her hips, the other traveling north, pushing her shirt up before closing over her breast. His fingers traced the curve of the cups before unceremoniously pushing one down, pinching the nipple as it popped out over the top, giving it a gentle twist as he rolled the tips between his fingers.

“What are you doing here?” He mumbled into her mouth, peppering kisses over her face.

“I’m here with friends.” She answered honestly. “I saw you.”

“You should have come over, we could have danced.” Adrien said, and even if he was teasing, Marinette heard the wistful note in his voice and winced.

“You looked busy.” She deflected, tracing the outline of his shoulder blades, dragging her hands down his back. “Busty brunette? Nice rack?” Teasingly, she pulled her hands around front and groped his pecs. 

Adrien snorted, his hands traveling south, dipping under her skirt and around flipping it up.

“Don’t want her.” He complained, pressing her damp panties to the erect cock straining against the front of his pants. “I want _you.”_

“I can feel that.” Marinette said breathlessly, hips already angling for better alignment against him.

“But do you know it?” Adrien countered, surprisingly sober sounding as he licked and sucked his way down her neck, turning them to press her back against the wall. “Do you understand that I _only_ want you?”

“I-” Marinette began, but his teeth grazed her exposed nipple, and a strong suck scattered her thoughts and he was moving on, letting her shirt fall as he dropped to his knees, shoving her skirt up to nose against her damp panties. His hot breath against her sent a fresh wave of arousal crashing through her, and Marinette whimpered. 

“She thought that she was the one doing this to me.” Adrien muttered, mouthing her through lace, his tongue darting out to lick a broad stripe up her and making her knees weak. “It wasn’t her. Never was. I found that little note in my pocket and spent the rest of the time imagining the different ways I wanted to love you tonight.”

_To love-?_ Marinette tried to grasp that thought - it was the closest they’d ever gotten to trading those three forbidden words - but a finger slipped beneath the fabric of her underwear, shifting it aside so he could dip a finger between her folds while he mouthed her mound appreciatively. 

“You’re so wet.” He breathed, tongue darting out to lick through the gathered moisture. “Were you imagining me, too?”

“Always.” Marinette admitted as his tongue dipped inside her again. Automatically she widened her stance, a hand drifting down to spread her lips and give him better access. “I’ve been watching you all night, wishing you’d notice me.”

And if _that_ wasn’t a testimony to how much alcohol affected her, nothing was. 

“Then come introduce yourself to me, and I will.” Adrien shot back, and Marinette shifted because that was the closest she’d ever heard him get to being _annoyed_ with her reluctance to reveal herself to him. She opened her mouth to respond, not sure what she was going to say, but Adrien’s lips closed over her clit and Marinette’s thoughts scattered as she cried out. His finger dipped inside her, pumping into her, and he hummed his appreciation as she bucked against him.

“That’s it, my lady,” He mumbled, adding a second finger and pumping her as he continued to toy with her clit. “Make that noise again.”

Marinette whined as he forced her legs wider, wedging his shoulders between her thighs to hold her spread while he used his mouth, tongue and hands to reduce her to a moaning mess. 

“I love it when you moan.” He told her, licking her folds eagerly while his thumb teased her opening. “I want to hear more.”

“Somebody will hear- _oh_.” Marinette warned, but then the pad of his thumb was pressing into her, his fingers teasing her ass as his thumb dipped and retreated, teasing the sensitive skin of her entrance and leaving her panting and whining in its wake.

“Make that noise again.” Adrien demanded. “I want to hear it.”

Marinette couldn’t have denied him if she’d wanted to. Clutching her skirt in her hands, she moaned, panting and writhing, forcing him to hold her as she squirmed until a rush of wetness coated his probing tongue. Eagerly, Adrien lapped at her folds, holding her open as she ground against his face. 

Marinette was leaning against the wall, weak-kneed and reeling when Adrien stood up. His damp thumb pressed against her lips and Marinette’s mouth opened automatically, tasting her own self on the digit. Adrien pulled his finger away, replacing the digit with his lips and Marinette nearly moaned again at the taste of her on _him_ , mingling with the sweetness of the soda and the burn of the liquor.

She hardly registered the zipper until his bare cock was pressing against her, gripped in his hand as he dragged it through the moisture pooled between her still-spread legs. 

“I want you.” He panted, his tongue slipping into her mouth to brush against hers leadingly. “Please let me love you.”

“Take me,” Marinette murmured, feeling like the heroine in a bodice ripper novel as Adrien summarily hoisted her up and pressed her against the wall. She reached between them, shifting her underwear to the side and helping him line up so she could slide down onto him. The moaned in tandem as he sheathed himself in side her, coming to rest fully seated inside, cock twitching as he tried to restrain himself.

“Adrien,” Ladybug whined, and Adrien nearly lost it right there, hearing his name on her lips, _“go.”_

Adrien was strong without the suit, had only become stronger since donning it, and used that strength to grip his lady’s ass and slam her against the wall, lifting her slightly so he could shove into her, widening his stance for balance as she bucked against him.

He hadn’t even pulled his underwear down, just tugged himself out of the fly, but his jeans being halfway down his ass made things awkward. Still, Adrien couldn’t bring himself to care, burying his face against her neck and trying to stifle the noises welling up in his throat. She was wet, practically dripping, still open from her orgasm even as her channel gripped his cock and sucked him in.

Her hands were in his hair, tugging on the strands as she moaned in his ear, another rush of wetness coating his shaft and dripping down his sack. The front of his underwear were going to be soaked, and there might be an awkward wet spot on his jeans, but he didn’t care about that now when his lady’s heels were digging into the backs of his thighs as she begged him _faster_ and _harder._

Pleasure clouded his senses; his mouth was flooded with the taste of her musk and the salt of her skin, the scent of her perfume and skin filled his nose and the silk of her skin and the rasp of lace were under his fingers. Alcohol has loosened her tongue; she was louder than normal, tugging harder than she usually would, wanton in her arousal and it lit him up. She babbled, pleading with him even as she tightened around him, walls fluttering and pressing around him as he snapped his hips, driving into her even as he skirted the razor edge of his own release.

“Lady,” he groaned, mouth moving without his permission. “ _My_ Lady. _Ah,_ Ladybug, I’m about to-”

“Please. Please. Please.” Ladybug chanted against his neck, voice climbing octaves as she rocked against him. _“Please,_ Adrien. I need you. Ah, _ah- Adrien_.”

Her walls clamped down on him, spasming, milking him for all he was worth as his lover wailed her release in his ear. Adrien gasped, balls drawing up tight-  


-And the door opening, lights slapping on over their head blinding them both even as the voices registered.

“-Yeah babe, we’ll find them in a sec. I just need to get Luc a _oh my god!”_ Nino reeled back, obviously not expecting what he found.

“Nino? What’s going - oh my God, _Marinette?”_

Mari-? Adrien’s scattered brain had just long enough to register the name, but he was already too far gone to stop, fingers digging into the muscles of her legs even as his lover stiffened in his arms. Adrien clenched his teeth, desperately trying to hold back the waves of pleasure as his body spilled into hers, unable to stop his hips from jerking as he pressed into her with each wave. 

Adrien groaned, sagging against Ladybug, reeling as his body simultaneously tried to relax on an endorphin high and tense up as adrenaline and embarrassment flooded him. Groaning, he turned his head, glaring at Nino and Alya who still stood, slack-jawed and shocked, in the doorway.

Then Alya whooped with delight. “About damn time! Get it, girl!”

Adrien blinked as an inebriated Alya started dancing around, cheering. Nino reached out and snagged the open bottle from Alya’s grip, grabbing the bottle before the liquid inside could slosh out of the open neck. Still staring at the couple in front of him, he raised it, silently toasting Adrien before taking a swig.

_What the-?_ Adrien was officially confused as Nino silently held the bottle out to him. Alya was still dancing around behind him, babbling about _Finally!_ And _Oh my god, girl, you’re gonna tell me everything!_

“What…?” Adrien mumbled, hand automatically rising to grip the bottle Nino was still holding aloft. Nino smirked as he released the bottle into Adrien’s hand.

“‘Bout damn time.” Nino mumbled. “‘Course, you could’a just _told_ us, didn’t have to go- Oh. _Oh.._ Uh, babe?”

“Damn, Mari, I am _so_ happy for you!” Alya’s grin was wide enough to split her face

Mari? _Mari?_ Adrien’s brain finally caught up to everything going on, and he turned his face to study the familiar dark ponytail buried resolutely against his shoulder. _Marinette?_

_“Dammit_ , Alya,” Marinette’s voice growled, somewhere between ire and horror, _“can we get a minute?”_

“Yeah babe, we, um, should probably let them get back to-” Nino gestured helplessly at the pair still trapped against the wall. “Um...”

“Oh! Yeah!” Alya blew them a beaming kiss. “You two have fun now!”

Nino turned, grabbing a cord off of a shelf as he shoved Alya out of the closet into the hallway, shutting the door firmly behind him, light still on overhead. Adrien could hear then retreating down the hall, Alya still chattering excitedly and Nino trying futilely to hush her. The silence, Adrien thought ironically, was somehow louder than the noise.

Adrien looked at the bottle he was still somehow holding, setting it on a nearby shelf. Maybe he’d had enough alcohol for tonight.

He glanced down at the dark hair still pressed against him, though he rather thought it was less because she wanted to be close and more that she (Ladybug. _Marinette_ , holy shit.) was trying to hide. Adrien was torn between wanting to hold her closer, jubilant, and wanting to step back and give her space to compose herself. There was also the rather awkward _physical_ predicament he now found himself in, grimacing at the cold and wet sensation as he slid out of her slowly.

He’d been in a relationship with Marinette this whole time? Marinette was his Ladybug? His lady love? His secret lover had been one of his best friends _this entire time?_

“Yes.”

Marinette unhooked her ankles from around his waist, adrenaline and alcohol making her unsteady and ill as she pressed back against the wall. She kept her head down, staring at the floor and hastily rearranging her skirt, trying to ignore the come sliding down her leg as Adrien tucked himself back into his jeans and zipped them up. 

She didn’t want to see his face. She didn’t want to see whatever shock or horror or _pity_ might be lurking in his green eyes as he realized that… that she…

“Marinette.” His voice was impossibly soft, and Marinette flinched black like he’d struck her. “Marinette, look at me.”

“Yeah, no.” Marinette snorted, shoving her straps back in place and smoothing her hair back, all without looking up from the floor as she attempted to step around him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me-”

“No.” Adrien stepped very deliberately in front of the doorway, arms going out to physically block the exit. Marinette’s head snapped up, eyes glimmering wetly as she glared at him. “Not until we talk this out.”

“‘Talk this out?’” Marinette repeated incredulously. “What do you want to talk out, Adrien? How annoyed you are that I deceived you, or how disappointed you are that _I’m_ Ladybug?”

Adrien raised an eyebrow, unimpressed at her anger. “Neither. Stop putting words in my mouth.”

“Let my by, Adrien.” Marinette gritted out.

“No.” Adrien retorted. “You’re upset. I get it, but I don’t really understand why. And I’m not letting you run away from this. From _us_.”

Marinette ignored the way her heart twisted at _us_. “You can’t stop me.”

Adrien’s eye twitched before he leaned back against the door, deceptively casual. “Maybe. Maybe not. But running now won’t do you any good - you’ll still have to face me later.”

Marinette wrapped her arms around her middle and tried not to fold in on herself. This was not how she wanted things to go!

“So you can run, and force me to chase you,” Adrien continued on calmly, looking impossibly handsome as he crossed his arms and raised a challenging brow, “or you can talk to me like a big girl and tell me what the problem is.”

“I didn’t want you to know it was me!” Marinette blurted out.

Adrien sucked in a breath. “Now?” He asked quietly, “Or ever?”

“I- I don’t know.” Marinette whimpered, feeling trapped. “I was in love with you for so long, and I… I just wanted your attention.”

“You have always had my attention, Ladybug.” Adrien said quietly.

Marinette flinched. “I had your attention as _Ladybug_. You never saw Marinette.”

“I always saw you.” Adrien rebutted. “Just because it was never romantic, doesn’t mean I didn’t see you.”

“As a friend.” Marinette said bitterly.

“As one of my _best_ friends.” Adrien’s eyebrows raised at her tone. “I swore years ago that I would love the girl under the mask - that never waivered. It’s just nice to know that I already did.”

Marinette resumed staring at her shoes. “You were too enamored with Ladybug to see Marinette.”

“And you were too hung up on Adrien to see Chat.” Adrien retorted, ignoring the way her eyes snapped up to his, brow furrowed in confusion as her lips pursed.

“Don’t bring Chat into this.” Marinette frowned. “He’s my best friend, and my partner, but he and I have never been like that.”

“I know.” Adrien nodded seriously. 

Marinette made a frustrated noise. “Then why are you bringing it up?”

“I’m just saying,” Adrien shrugged, “that we both had people whose attention we wanted, and didn’t know how to get as ourselves. So we both took advantage of an opportunity presented to us.”

Marinette squinted at Adrien suspiciously, but he returned her stare evenly, still leaning casually against the door. 

“But now we have an opportunity to be _more_ than each other’s dirty little secret.” He continued, pinning her with a look. “And you have to decide if you want to run from that, or embrace it.”

Marinette’s breath caught. “You’re not...upset?”

“Upset? Sure I am.” Adrien shrugged. “I’m upset that it dragged out this long. I’m upset that it took our best friends busting in on us - and interrupting some really great sex - to tip things. I’m upset we didn’t get to do it on our terms. I’m definitely upset that I didn’t see it before, but I’m not upset that it’s you.”

“But…” Marinette cast around, trying to organize her thoughts and ignore the way her heart thudded painfully against her ribs. Could it really be that easy? “But I’m…”

“You think I never saw you, but I promise you Marinette that I did.” Adrien said softly. “And just because I was too dazzled by Ladybug to love you the way you wanted doesn’t make our relationship as Adrien and Marinette any less real. In fact, it’s nice to know that the person I love has always been such a good friend.”

“Love?” Marinette squeaked.

“What, you think I don’t love you?” Adrien’s eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“But, you’ve never said…” Marinette gestured helplessly. 

“Bugaboo, I’ve tried to tell you a thousand different ways how much I adore you.” Adrien laughed softly, self-decrepatingly. “Just because I couldn’t say the words doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Or did you think I’d let just any superhero crawl in my window and seduce me?”

“Have you not read the fanfiction out there?” Marinette asked wryly. “I think half of Paris wants either Ladybug or Chat Noir - or both - to crawl in their window and do exactly that.”

“Mm. True enough I suppose. Of course, a good chunk of them also think they’re in love with Adrien Agreste.” Adrien shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I would let them do what they want. So, are you going to give me a chance, or do you just think I’m a fanboy?”

Marinette bit her lip, shifting her weight nervously. “Well,” she joked half-heartedly, “I’ve already seen you naked.”

“I haven’t seen you naked.” Adrien pouted. “Gonna let me now?”

“Hmph.” Marinette crossed her arms, sniffing haughtily. “You just want me for my body.”

“Excuse me?” Adrien grinned. “You’re forgetting which of us is the supermodel. How do I know you’re not just using me for _my_ body?”

“I guess you don’t.” Marinette arched a brow imperiously. “You’ve only my word to go on.”

“I guess that makes us even then.” Adrien opened his arms. “Now, can we try this for real this time?”

“For real?” Marinette asked suspiciously.

“For real.” Adrien nodded. “Sex with Ladybug is fun, but I’d really like to date Marinette, too.”

Marinette’s face softened into a smile, and she stepped into his arms. “I’d like that, too.” She murmured.

Adrien’s arms locked around her, a strange rumbling sound starting up as he buried his nose in her hair.

“Adrien?” Marinette asked uncertainty. “Are you...purring?”

Adrien laughed, the odd double-sound emerging from his throat as he tipped her chin up, leaning down to rub his nose against hers.

“Oh, Bugaboo,” He said affectionately, and Marinette’s mind blanked as a thousand tiny clues suddenly _snapped_ into place, “did you think you were the only one with a secret?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVERY AFTER, THE END.
> 
> Happy 2018 Sinners! A heartfelt "thank you" for joining Bronte and I on this 31-day adventure as we strove to send 2017 off with a _bang._ Enjoy the new year!

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, Christmas time! So warm and fuzzy and family-oriented and...smutty as hell, now that Bronte and Fairia have gotten hold of it. Why? Because we just couldn't leave well enough alone. So jingle those bells, take off your stockings, and spread a little Christmas cheer as we end 2017 with a 31-Orgasm Salute!
> 
> Full prompt list can be found here: https://seasonofthegeek.tumblr.com/post/167902956101/youreyeslookliketheocean-25-days-of-ml
> 
> Enjoy, Sinners!


End file.
